Switch
by RZZMG
Summary: Hermione wanted a night with an anonymous, skilled & sensual partner to teach her to be a sub in bed, but when Draco Malfoy pursues her after, can a girl avoid the sinful temptations of the flesh available at a fetish nightclub? PostHogwarts-EWE. Story won multiple categories at the 2011 Summer & 2012 Spring Rounds of the HP Fanfic Fan Poll Awards-see profile for details. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **

**This story was my entry to the HERMIONEVILLE's HERMIONE FANON SHIPS FEST CHALLENGE (April-May, 2011). I picked Hermione Granger x Draco Malfoy as my main pairing. ****I went to a random prompt generator and came up with these five words to throw into the story and help me focus the plot: ****sin, ****ice cream, ****red, ****voucher, ****park.**

**I'll post a chapter up every so many days. The fic is completed, btw.**

**Hope you enjoy! Please review and let me know, yeah?**

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**Disclaimer: **I do not own "Harry Potter," nor any of its characters, nor do I profit in any way from the use of said characters and situations in this writing.

**Story Details:** A Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger drama-romance-angst story. Post-Hogwarts. Novel compliant, but discards Epilogue entirely (EWE - "Epilogue What Epilogue?" format). Characters are a little OCC (out-of-character) because of the plot.

**Timeline:** 2003 - 2004

**Main Characters (alphabetical order, by last name): **Hermione Granger, Astoria Greengrass, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Blaise Zabini

**Summary: **It was only supposed to be one night - a set-up with a hot guy at a fetish club in Muggle London for some mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex where Hermione would play the submissive role. However, when her amazingly skilled and sensual partner, Draco Malfoy, kept sending her tickets and roses to return to the club to meet again and again, how could a single, sexually-experimental girl say 'no'? Hermione's about to learn the hard way that the sins of the flesh can prove to be too tempting for the body - and the heart - to resist.

**Rating: MA+/NC-17 **(_very_ explicit sexual situations [fetish lifestyle - BDSM], alcohol consumption, profanity)

**Extra Notes: **A 'switch' in the BDSM sexual lifestyle is a person who can act as either a top (Dom, or Dominant) or a bottom (sub or submissive); many times, it is a spontaneous reversal of roles, unplanned and unexpected.

**Images to go along with this fic (characters, outfits, places mentioned in the story - remove all spaces to load the URL properly): http:/ / s905 . photobucket . com / albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Switch**

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_**SWITCH **_

**BY: ****RZZMG**

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_**CHAPTER ONE**_

**The Ministry of Magic**  
**London, England**  
**June 6, 2003 – Friday afternoon**

Two months ago, if anyone would have told me that I'd one day be the recipient of Draco Malfoy's sexual interest, and that I'd actually crave him back, I'd have laughed myself silly. Now, I wasn't finding the idea so funny. Provocative? Certainly. Humorous? No.

I stared at the ticket in one hand and the perfect red rose that had accompanied it in the other and knew, even without a signed, attached note or any other indication as to the identity of my benevolent gift-giver, who had sent it to me. There was only one person in the whole, wide wizarding world that would be so bold as to buy me an advanced voucher for admission to tomorrow night's _Festival of Sins _special monthly event at The Den & Centro. The Muggle fetish event was familiar ground, after all, as Malfoy and I had met there just last month on a blind date.

For not the first time over the last four weeks, I leaned down and repeatedly banged my forehead against the flat of my office desk.

_Dummy, dummy, dummy! _

Right, so I'd lost my sanity that night, allowing Slytherin's former Prince to take me into a back, private room of the club and dominantly fuck me to within an inch of my life. But I'd asked for that in advance, hadn't I? It had been my idea to get Ginny to hook me up for a one-off shag with a hot guy who wanted to play at some BDSM as a top to my bottom – something I'd never tried before, and was tantalized by upon hearing about it from my best girlfriend (who'd met her current boy-toy and BDSM playmate, Blaise Zabini, there two months prior).

And Malfoy had performed just _fecking _magnificently. Almighty Heaven, I'd orgasmed harder under his skilled hands and the thrust of his expert cock than I'd ever imagined possible! I'd also been left emotionally twisted in knots in the aftermath as he'd kissed and touched me with such tenderness and care, unable to reconcile myself to the fact that the greatest sex of my life - including the events in the afterglow - had come from the man I'd once utterly loathed on sight.

Of course, I was perfectly aware that engaging in any association with the former dark wizard was social suicide. And truthfully, my reputation could not afford to take another hit, thanks to the rather humiliating public break-up between Ron and me just six months ago... Right in the Ministry Lobby, I'd caught him sneaking off to have lunch with Lavender Brown again. Given the ultimatum that he choose which woman he actually wanted, he'd had the absolute nerve to blow up at me and accuse me of always being too overbearing and controlling in our relationship, which is why - he announced in a rather heated shout – he was leaving me for Lavender (who apparently acted like a 'real' female, and didn't try to wear the pants in their illicit affiliation).

On the other hand, I'd known those oh-so-glaring facts last month when I'd agreed to go on the date that Ginny and Zabini had together set up between Malfoy and me. I'd been willing to risk bad publicity once, so why not twice? Since when had I not been willing to break a few rules, anyway?

And honestly, a part of me felt as though I needed what Malfoy was offering: a purely physical relationship, where he took the lead and directed my pleasure utterly and at his discretion. Between us, I was not allowed to organize, manage or influence what we did in bed - that was _Draco's _job, according to the agreement I'd made with him that one night.

I'd discovered right quick that the distinct rush that came with having no autonomy over my own personal gratification was quite a heady aphrodisiac. Yet, at the same time, it was also very difficult for me to give up all control - especially to someone I didn't fully trust. Malfoy was an unknown quantity, and I wasn't exactly sure what he was getting out of our involvement. I could fathom a guess that it had something to do with corrupting me, as he'd often taunted in school that I was a prude and spinster material in the making, but I wasn't positive.

Taking all of that into account, I wondered if it was a wise decision to meet up with him again.

I spent the rest of the afternoon first talking myself into and then out of, and then back into the idea of going to the club tomorrow night, hardly getting any work accomplished before it was time to punch out.

Calling it a week at the office, tossing the ticket into my charmed beaded bag, I left my desk in the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures and headed down the hall to Ginny's in the Hit Wizards Office to tell her the news that I'd decided to accept Malfoy's offer after all.

"'Mione, are you sure you want to meet with him again?" my BFF hedged, and I wondered if she knew something through the Zabini grapevine that I didn't.

I stared calmly at her, willing my heart to stop thumping so loudly in my ears. "Is there a reason I shouldn't?" I cautiously asked.

A tiny crease worked its way between her crimson eyebrows. "It's just that, well, I thought you said you wanted it to be a one-off deal, never to be repeated - just good, hard sex with a guy who was interesting, sexy and into giving you your fantasy for that one night. But you should know that Malfoy's not acting. He really is a Dom in his relationships, according to Blaise. And well, 'Mione, you're not a sub deep down. You're more the type for an equal partnership. This is just a phase you're going through, I can tell. Eventually, you won't like being controlled so completely. You'll want to switch, and Draco will resist. It could end badly - for _both _of you."

It took me several seconds to compute that Ginny was concerned I was going into the BDSM thing with Malfoy with eyes wide shut. I shook my head, trying to appear reasonable and calm. I'd just spent several hours fighting internal demons (and made three lists filled with pro/con arguments on the situation), and now that I'd finally convinced myself to go through with a second meeting, I wouldn't be deterred. "Draco and I are both rational, consenting adults. If we find the situation to become incompatible to either of our needs, we'll simply part ways," I explained, clinging to simple logic. "Until then, I don't see the harm in enjoying myself a bit. I'm sure to get quite the education from our encounters, and as long as what he and I are doing is kept away from Skeeter and her rotten colleagues, no one need be the wiser. Besides," I added, pushing my long bangs from my eyes, "I'm a modern day, young-twenties feminist, and I'd like to sow my oats before settling down. Malfoy doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he appears to be as curious about this… thing… between us as I am."

Ginny stared up at me from her seat behind her desk, and bit the side of her lip. I could tell she wanted to refute, but I set my expression in such a way to let her know I didn't want to argue the issue; I only wanted to know if she would come help me pick out an outfit for tomorrow night's hook-up. With a surrendering sigh, she nodded. "Alright, I'll Apparate to your flat tomorrow morning and we'll make a day of it. Ten o'clock?"

I nodded. "Great. I'll fix the wards to let you in."

With that, I hit the Apparition point and spelled myself home for a night of Chinese take-away and settling on the sofa with Crooks to watch _The Edwardian Country House_, which I'd videotaped earlier in the week to watch during some downtime.

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_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S EXTENDED NOTES:**

**The Festival of Sins really exists (http:/ / www . festivalofsins . co . uk), and is described exactly as it operates and where it is located (a nightclub building called 'The Den & Centro'). The only part that is fictional to the place is the optional rooms in the secret back - called 'Dark Rooms' in fetish circles. I do not believe that The Den & Centro has these kinds of rooms, but many clubs have them, so I threw it in for a plot bunny. **


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Warning: "S-E-X, I think I love you! S-E-X, I think I found it!" ****Yeah, smut-tastic fun ahead in this chapter, folks! **

**If you want to see the models I chose to represent Draco, Hermione, Ginny & Blaise in this story, as well as the outfits and pics of the places I mention, definitely check out my Photobucket site. The URL one more time is (remove all spaces to make it load properly): _http:/ / s905 . photobucket . com / albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Switch_**

**P.S. THANK YOU TO UNSEENLIBRARIAN WHO BETA'D THIS STORY! She is a goddess, and everyone should bow down and worship her (I have a shrine set up in my house to her and we sacrifice small gnomes in front of it daily). Please remember to thank her in your reviews for her hard work keeping this story editorially-correct!**

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_**CHAPTER TWO**_

**Festival of Sins**  
**The Den and Centro, London, England**  
**June 7, 2003 – Saturday Night (Special Event: Carnival of Naughty Fun – A Celebration of 'Luxuria - Lust')**

The heavy, deep beat of sexy, electro-bass thumped through my ribcage as Ginny and I passed through the familiar doors of the club, leaving the safety of reality far behind for the circus of intimate dreams and exotic fetishes. My adrenaline-pumped heart automatically syncopated to keep from exploding in my chest from cardiac arrhythmia as the music literally vibrated through the marrow of my bones. I took a deep breath to try to calm myself, and like last time, I felt the stifling pressure in my lungs from too many bodies crammed into too small a space.

In the dim, cavernous space, there was mass confusion. A multitude of sinuous forms writhed about in time to the pulsing, thudding trance playing over the sound system, while others passed to and fro through the room, gliding from the bar to the wall to an open table. They wore a variety of costumes – everything from vinyl cat-suits to superhero spandex to Goth velvet and crinoline to barely-there leather skirts and nipple pasties. Collars and piercings and tattoos seemed to be in, as well as platform shoes, school uniform skirts and riding crops. Bubblegum pink pigtails bounced about, Rasta dreads swirled around, and shaved heads gleamed under the carefully-controlled lighting system.

Anything and everything went here, aside from full nudity (albeit, some of the crowd came bloody close).

Parti-colored illuminations from the programmed track-lighting system moved about, and my eyes were suddenly flashed, effectively blinding me for the moment. I stumbled into a couple passing through the entrance before me, smelling the acrid, musty scent of cigarette coupled with the tang of vinegar sweat upon the man's dark cotton tee. Quickly, I pushed away, overwhelmed.

"Sorry!" I offered to the man, who hardly seemed to have noticed, repetitively blinking, fumbling about with my hands, making an utter fool of myself.

Noticing my misstep, Ginny grabbed my wrist and yanked hard, pulling me away before I could embarrass myself further. "Be careful," she shouted in my ear, dragging us back towards the bar. "You know you could get trampled in here!"

"Yeah," I shouted back. "Got that."

Why had I agreed to come here again, and why, oh, _why_ had I agreed to meet _him_ again tonight – especially in a place like _this? _My stomach roiled with nervous fluttering, bringing with it a hollow ache in my gut.

As my BFF dragged me through the crowd, I held tight to the small beaded bag attached to my hip belt, as it was charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm to allow me to stuff everything I needed in there – including my wand, Muggle identification and money. At the bar, I bought us both a couple of beers, and pivoted on my heel, hoping for a seat somewhere, as my feet were killing me in the heels that Ginny had insisted I buy to go along with the outfit we'd picked up today… and nearly walked straight into my pre-arranged date for the night.

It still amazed me how much Malfoy had grown up – and out – in five years. That too-thin, nearly skeletal form he'd worn in sixth year was now filled in with muscle. That little fact was driven home to me by the exposure of his torso through the black, fishnet tank he wore. The mesh shirt showed off strong shoulders and biceps, well-defined pecs, and a nice, firm abdomen. The shirt trailed off into a pair of lamb-skin leather pants, and ended in some sort of nice dress shoe that shined and looked expensive.

His body wasn't the only thing that had matured, either. His face had filled out as he'd put on weight and aged a bit, rounding out the pointed, patrician features he'd sported as a child. He wore the shadowy-stubble of a goatee, giving his pretty-boy face a rakish, masculine maturity. On his left earlobe winked a tasteful emerald and platinum stud. With his hair about the same length as when he'd been seventeen, but now parted in the middle rather than the side and without product to slick it back, he looked positively, predatorily sexy - _definitely _a temptation for the entire female population in the room.

For several long seconds, we stared at each other – I caught off-guard and clearly surprised by his presence (with all these people mucking about, how had he found me so easily?), he with amusement at having thrown me for a loop again. His eyes drifted lazily down my form during that momentary pause, appreciating the effort Gin and I had gone through to get me looking magnificently shaggable.

"Different," was what he came up with for an opening line, and I could just barely make out what he said over the noise around us.

I scowled at him. That wasn't the word I'd been hoping to hear. 'Beautiful,' 'amazing' or maybe even 'tasty' would have been much more appreciated. 'Different' was safe and _utterly _unflattering. I raised an eyebrow in displeasure. "Quite," I shouted back so he'd hear me, and then marched past him to find my friend, confident he'd catch up now that we both knew the game was on.

On the way towards the familiar table on the side that we'd occupied the last time Gin and I had hit this scene, my mind whirled over the opening moves in this round's chess match between Malfoy and me. Right, so this wasn't my usual look, even for the club scene, as it was definitely more risqué than anything I'd worn to date. I'd taken pains over pairing the shimmery gold halter with no straps or sleeves with the shortest, blackest vinyl skirt on the planet and the aforementioned belt. Aside from some chunky costume jewelry bangles on my wrists, a pair of gold hoop earrings, my beaded purse-bag, and the killer black shoes, I was entirely bare-fleshed (and sprinkled with honey dust over every inch of skin, including my behind – Gin's brilliant idea). And yes, my hair and make-up were definitely roguish for me; I was made up like some centerfold for Vogue, with iron-straightened hair (the Muggle fashion of the day), and my face was painted to the hilt, with lips glossed satiny crimson and lashes teased too long by thick, black mascara (all bespelled not to be removed, except by the counter spell – so I could kiss to my heart's content, and not worry about my lipstick rubbing off). Still, I thought I looked smashing. The gawking I was receiving from many of the gentlemen about indicated they thought so, too. So what was Malfoy's problem?

'Different' – indeed!

After a full minute search up and down the table area, I found my best girlfriend sequestered away in a dark area with a rather tall, swarthy man, whom I recognized instantly as well. Zabini was all over Gin, pressing her into the wall directly behind the table, his mouth glued to hers, and her head was clearly in the clouds, as she ravished her man right back with an equal enthusiasm.

Great.

I was just about to saunter up and interrupt with the offer of a beer when suddenly, the music dipped into a sultry, trance interlude _sans _words, making it possible to hear and engage in conversation without needing to shout. My ears rung a bit.

Unexpectedly, in that same moment, his warm mouth brushed the shell of my ear, and that familiar voice of his sent a shiver up my spine. "Different and _delicious_, Granger."

I nearly dropped the beers.

'Delicious.' That was close enough to 'tasty' for my ego to forgive and forget the previous _faux pas _he'd committed. "Um, hi," I greeted quickly, turning and putting some space between us, giving him another once-over. "You look… delicious, too."

Oh, Godric, did I just say something that lame?

I quickly looked over at Gin and Blaise sucking face, then back at him. "I was just about to- I mean-" I stopped my floundering tongue and sighed, realizing how ridiculous I was sounding. "Thank you for inviting me with the ticket," I managed instead and turned to head for our table before I could make a total arse of myself.

_Seriously dummy, dummy, dummy! _

Putting the bottles down, I managed to catch Gin's attention with a loud shout of her name. As she and her beau took the few steps back to the table, noticing Malfoy and I waiting for them, my date for the evening passed me a shot glass filled to the rim with a dark amber liquid – obviously hard liquor – and stuck his lips right next to my ear again. "Drink every drop for me," he bade in that same compelling voice he'd used the last time we'd been alone. "I want to taste it on your lips and tongue later."

Instantly, the flash of desire warmed my lower extremities, making that fluttering in my stomach kick up a pace. I felt my nipples tighten at the thought of what was to come.

Oh, no - _absolutely not _a mistake coming here tonight.

**X~~~X**

Three shots later, Malfoy took my hand and led me to the crowded, sweaty dance floor. Packed in close, there was hardly any room to maneuver, and so I found myself pressed intimately into my date whether I wanted to be or not.

His hands expertly smoothed over my hips as we faced off, dragging me that half-inch closer until our pelvises touched, forcing my body to sway in time to the rhythm of the song along with him. I glanced up and was captivated by twin orbs of mercurial heat, noting with a quick flicker downward that our lips were poised only an inch or so apart, thanks to my ridiculously high heels. Everything inside and out flushed with heat, the alcohol roaring through my blood as my heart picked up in its paces. Between my thighs, the provocative music that surrounded and penetrated us took hold and rode me hard; a heavy, thumping drum, synthesized keyboard, and DJ remix electronically-altered voice with profane expression worked in tandem with those mysterious dragon eyes of his to completely unmake my defenses.

_"I wanna fuck you like an animal," _the singer profanely declared. _"I wanna feel you from the inside." _

Malfoy's grip dug into my hips.

_"I wanna fuck you like an animal… My whole existence is flawed… You get me closer to God." _

His fingers glided over the curve of my hind, cupping my arse and pulling me in until we were grinding against each other, and I could feel his steely erection through the layers of our clothing. My head fell forward, touching down against his jaw as a strange dizziness seized me. I wrapped my arms about his neck and let all control go again, enjoying the sensation of having him touch me once more.

Malfoy moved like we were having long, penetrative sex right there on the floor, and I could feel my orgasm mounting just from his rubbing. His cheek slid across mine as he pressed his mouth over my ear again and he whispered the words to the repeating chorus to me.

_"I wanna fuck you like an animal… I wanna feel you from the inside… I wanna fuck you like an animal." _

Something inside me came unglued and broke apart at the seams.

**X~~~X**

I'm not even sure how we made it through the throng in our rushed desire to get to one of the secret, private rooms in the back of the club, behind a black door marked "Employees Only." Like the previous time, Malfoy slipped some money into the hand of the large bouncer at said door, and then we were through it and I was being dragged behind him down a dark corridor. We stopped at the same cashier booth as our first encounter, just on the other side, and he threw down more Muggle money.

"Two hours, guv, or someone comes to 'escort' ya out, yeah? Room four, on the left," the man with the thick accent behind the glass informed us. "Don't care if ya've been here before; I gotta tell ya the rules of the house are always enforced - ya break anything, ya pay for it. Don't do nothin' ta get yourself kicked from here, 'cause if we ban ya, no other fuckin' joint in London will touch ya neither. And fer Christ's sake, use the fuckin' condoms. Safe and consensual, yeah?" He passed the key under the glass and my date grabbed it up and hurried us on without a word, merely a nod in acquiescence.

Unlocking the door to our room, Malfoy pulled me in after him. He had the door shut and relocked behind me in a heartbeat as my cursory glance took in the whole of the room in seconds.

The room was similar to the last one we'd occupied here. It was painted black inside to match the theme of the place, and the carpet was a dark red. There was a queen-sized bed in the middle, abutting the wall, with a simple, black cotton fitted sheet over the mattress, and a mounted rack on the wall above it that had leather cuffs for a single pair of wrists hanging from sturdy chains that could be adjusted for length. There was an end table next to the bed with a plastic punch bowl filled with a selection of condoms in colorful wrappers to choose from, and next to it a wrapped basket that contained various types of oil and lubrication. I assumed that the basket cost must have been included in the price of the room, and it would be discarded and replaced as soon as we left - if we opened it, that was. A sign on the opposite wall said in very big letters, "One hour minimum. Parties of three or more pay an extra 10% gratuity. Remember: be safe and consensual."

There was no time to second guess; I'd passed that point three drinks ago. Now, Malfoy's arms slid around me from behind, and he pressed his muscular, solid body into me. His lips slid over my lobe, down my throat, suckling over my pulse with devilish intent. His stubbly chin and upper lip rasped against my soft skin, making things low in my abdomen flutter. "Choose a 'safe word'," he murmured against my throat.

I blinked, unfamiliar with the term. This was something new; he hadn't asked that from me last time. "Um, what's that?"

"A word that you'll use when you want me to stop, no questions asked," he patiently informed me, gliding his covered, rather hard length up the slit of my butt cheeks with slow, intentional expertise. My legs quivered, and between my thighs, there was a distinct dampness against my red, satiny knickers.

"Would you really do that?" I breathily asked as he bit down over my pulse and stroked again against my backside. "Just stop, if I wanted?"

He nodded, his soft, platinum hair brushing against the tickling skin at the base of my throat. "I won't force you to do anything you're not comfortable with – but I _will _test your bounds, Granger. I'll push you and that bloody Gryffindor courage of yours until you tell me 'no more.' Now, choose a safe word," he growled, biting a bit harder. "Something you'll remember easily that you don't use in everyday conversation."

I said the first thing that came to my mind that sounded just foreign enough. "Venus."

Unbeknownst to me, Malfoy had been slowly working my belt off while we'd been talking, and now tossed it and my beaded bag onto the floor with a hum of excitement. "Venus, huh?" he replied, making sure I knew he understood the word choice. "Good, now, go to the bed and stand in front of it. Don't look at me until I tell you that you can."

I paused, unsure.

"Obey me," he demanded in a gentle, but firm tone. "Do it, sweet thing, so we can play a little before we get down to the fucking."

"All right," I whispered, eager to surrender to what we were going to do – not just for how it would physically make me feel, but also because, for a little while, this fantasy would take me out of myself and away from the broken heart I was nursing.

He dropped his arms and I crossed the room as he wanted, conscious the whole time of my thong riding the center cleft of my buttocks. Would he go there tonight? I hadn't done that with a man, but Gin told me all about it. Honestly, I was scared of the idea, and thought that might be the condition under which I spoke the 'safe word.'

I stopped before the bed, somewhere in the center of its width, noting the mounted rack straight ahead of me, attached to the wall with ominous intent. Would he try to use those restraints on me, too? No way - I couldn't do that either. Could I?

"Get rid of the skirt, jewelry and top."

Feeling my cheeks heat with blood, I did as he requested with trembling hands. The zip on the skirt was easy to undo, and I pried the material from my hips, letting it drop to the floor. My tube-top went over my shoulders and I tossed it aside without a second thought. I wasn't wearing a bra. I shucked the costume bracelets, and they thunked heavily to the carpet. Clad in only my knicks and heels, I waited for his next command, feeling his eyes crawl over every inch of me.

"Spread your legs, bend over and put your palms flat on the bed."

My breath hitched, but I did it.

"Arch your spine a bit and stick your arse in the air for me. Yeah, that's it."

I closed my eyes, feeling very vulnerable. Bloodying my dignity for a cheap thrill left my pride a little raw. A part of me hated that I was doing this, especially with the likes of _him_. The other part, however, hated that I'd spent the last month craving and hoping for another chance to experience such biting pain-slash-incredible pleasure again. Malfoy had made my body practically purr for hours after his touch the last time, and now it was amped, praying for another round of good, hard shagging from this wizard.

Was I twisted or what?

He moved, and then he was suddenly _right there_, kneeling behind me, his fingers stroking over the rounded flesh of my buttocks and legs with gentle caresses. He hummed in approval, and I could feel his warm breath tickle the inside of my sweaty thighs as he leaned forward and wetly kissed everywhere over my exposed skin.

"You shaved," he commented, letting his fingertips trace over the thin strip of fabric covering my pussy. "Do you like how it feels?"

He'd asked me last time as he'd fingered through my damp curls if I'd ever gone bare-lipped before, and when I'd said 'no,' he'd asked me to try it just once. "Yes," I admitted, feeling as if I should be ashamed to be speaking so intimately about such a thing, but finding that I was instead aroused by it.

He hummed in approval, allowing his fingers a few moments more of enjoyment over the tiny bit of clothing before deciding he wanted me fully naked for him. "You have a really luscious bum, Granger. Let's see it all, shall we?" With careful tugging, he pulled the edges of my knickers down, slowly drawing out the revelation of my most intimate self to his perusal. I felt the fabric slip down, moving past my knees, over my calves. He gently lifted each foot and slipped the garment off. When it came free, his hands were back to their roaming, gliding up my skin this time with the same tender attention. His breath shuddered through the crack of my arse and my lower lips, causing me to shake in a combination of terror and excitement, as I knew that right then, he was looking at me – really taking me all in.

I couldn't believe I was bending over a rented bed in a back room, naked, and letting Draco Malfoy look right up my kitty! Merlin, could it get any more perverse than this?

Warm fingers parted my denuded folds, stroking with soft insistence. They found and circled my clit, playfully tormenting, causing electric sparks to shoot up my spine. My inner thighs uncontrollably quaked and I moaned with need.

"I'm going to finger this pretty, wet pussy," he told me rather evenly. "Let's see how many you can take." He entered me – first one finger, then two – thrusting in and out in a deep, slow rhythm, causing me to gasp. When he tried for three, I let out a yelp and he pulled back so that only two digits stretched me out. "Hmmm, responsive _and _tight," he murmured, clearly pleased. "Tell me, Granger: are you on a contraceptive potion or spell tonight?"

I nodded. "Contraceptive and Disease Charm. I cast it before coming here, just like last time, just in case. It'll last at least another eight hours."

He hummed again and that deep, throaty almost-purr was quickly becoming my favorite sound in the whole world. "Good. I did the same. I always will. No possibility of an accident that way, and we both stay clean." He thrust his fingers hard into me and I groaned, widening my stance a bit more.

When his fingers suddenly withdrew, I felt bereft and grit my teeth. He told me not to look at him though, so I didn't turn, trusting he wasn't about to do something horrid. I couldn't help the whimper of disappointment that escaped my lips, however.

"Now, now, sweet thing, I hardly got to taste you last time," he mercilessly teased, his hand rubbing my wet fluids all over my backside as he smoothed over the cheeks again. "I want you _dripping _for me when I take you, Granger, so hold still," he bade, and I could hear the eagerness in his voice. My womb clenched in response.

Crawling between my legs, putting his back to the mattress so that his face could bury itself properly in my thatch, and his naughty and very skilled tongue instantly replaced his hand in caressing the entire length of my seam and I couldn't prevent my desperate gasps. He ate me out with a talent that made my fingernails scrape across the cotton sheet with the need to dig into something meaty and hold on. My blood flew through my veins at supersonic speed making me decidedly dizzy. _"Oh, my God!" _I wailed as he swirled the nimble pink length of his tongue around my swollen, throbbing clit at the same time as two fingers reentered me from below. He suckled and surged in synch, driving my climax to the brink in a short amount of time. My eyes squeezed shut and I tensed up around him, my thighs literally quaking. "Oh, God, Malfoy… I'm-" I was so close, teetering on the edge.

With cool assurance, he held me there for at least another five minutes, backing off, refusing me release by alternating his rhythm and the pressure. When he finally pulled his mouth away and snuck back between my legs, I was left wanting, shaky all over, and internally cursing him for frustrating me so thoroughly.

Before I could think straight enough to give voice to some of those nasty thoughts, Draco was behind me, his naked cock slicking through my soaking folds, his sinful chuckle a dark reminder to me that he _did _have a sadistic side. "I'm going to fuck you now, Granger," he informed me in a heated, raspy voice. "Fuck you deep and hard. You're going to take what I do to you, and you're not going to come until I tell you that you can." He paused, his wide crest nudging my entrance, pressing in a bit and backing off. "Tell me you want me."

I swallowed heavily. "May I look at you when I say it?"

There was a distinct pause, as if I'd caught him by surprise. "Yes." His voice was hoarse as he agreed.

I looked over my shoulder at him, a lock of my temporarily-straightened hair falling across my cheek. "I want you, Draco," I said to him, feeling that it was somehow important that I look at least once before or during the act at the man who was going to screw me into mind-numbing oblivion. It seemed too dirty otherwise, for a reason I couldn't explain.

Those hungry, stormy eyes of his stared right into my soul as he worked his thick, steely length into me one glorious inch at a time, pushing through my still quivering, desperate flesh, pulling back a bit, re-entering. He repeated the motion until my aching channel was so full I thought I'd split in half, and the tip of him bumped my cervix. Fully seated within me, penetrated to the hilt, he stopped.

I wasn't sure what he was seeing on my face, but on his, there was an attempt for rigid control. His jaw was clenched, his expression stern, but a pink blush crept up his cheeks. Sweat dotted his upper lip. For a moment, an odd questioning glance passed through his eyes, and then he moved. Pulling out in one swift move, he forcefully slammed himself back inside my sheath without pause, fucking me strong with complete, deep strokes, just as he'd promised. I had no choice but to face forward then, as he roughly rode me, his grip on my hips almost bruising. The slap of our flesh meeting was loud in the room, intermingling with my beseeching whimpers for more.

"Moan for me, my princess," he grit in an authoritative tone. "Let me hear your pleasure."

I surrendered myself, just as we both wanted, and I gave Malfoy everything he asked for without reservation, allowing him to begin the testing of my limits. I moaned, I gasped, I cried out as he pulsed in and out of me with ruthless efficiency, meeting and exceeding my expectations for a dominating lover. He spanked my arse – not too hard, but enough to decide how much I could take before it became too much. He grabbed my hair and gently pulled back forcing my neck and spine to arch, and the new angle allowed him a type of penetration that stimulated my inner walls, eliciting sensations all through the swollen, grasping flesh of my pussy, causing me to flood with arousal and plead with him not to stop.

When it became apparent that I was nearing the cusp, he let go, and stilled within me. With fiendish glee, he leaned forward to play with my nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers, whispering naughty enticements in my ear the whole time. "Do you like my hard, aching cock inside your sopping cunt?" he asked, biting and suckling on my shoulder, leaving a love bruise behind. He jerked his hips once, then stilled again. "Do you like me fucking you? Tell the truth, Granger."

"Yes, _yes_," I panted, my entire body thrumming like a live wire with active current, looking for relief. Sweat trickled down my forehead, over my cheek. Malfoy caught the bead with his tongue, lapping it away, moaning in pleasure to see me so unhinged.

He made a circular motion with his hips, and tilted just so, causing his rigid shaft to stroke across that little tender spot on the upper inside of my vagina, sending sensation shooting through me. He did it again, and I groaned with animalistic intensity, my nails scraping and bunching the fabric of the bed sheet. "You like that?" he asked, sounding entirely too smug in the instinctual knowledge that I did, in fact, _really _like what he was doing to me. "Feel good enough for you to come back next month so we can do this again?"

I fervently nodded, unable to talk around my mewling cries, which only picked up in decibel levels as he resumed his thrusting action. I'd have agreed to just about anything right at that moment, especially when he pinched my nipples, pulling them slightly away from my body, releasing them at the pinnacle of that pleasure. Skimming his fingers down my abdomen, past my bellybutton, he tickled my clit with a feathery stroke. The fiery ache that awoke deep inside had me mewling. "Please," I heard myself beg. "Please, soon?"

What we'd done thus far wasn't enough for either of us in the grand scheme of things, and we both knew it, but there was only so much stimulation the human body could take at one extended time before it required fulfillment. Anything beyond that became pain. I'd reached my limit, it seemed.

Trailing kisses up and down my spine, Malfoy rubbed my clitoris with finality in mind, even as his hips picked up their pace and he reached for his own ending. "I want you to come for me, sweet thing. Come hard around my cock. Come for me now."

I keened as he skillfully manipulated my body to do as he wished and in those moments, I became all his. He owned me. I'd have done anything to never let this feeling stop. My heart pounded, my thighs tensed, my muscles quivered. "Oh, God… _Oh, God!" _I wailed, throwing my head back and bowing my spine. _"DRACO!" _

I flew. Heaven embraced me.

He was still pounding behind me, preparing for his own release as I finally regained my sanity long seconds later. His hands pulled me in tight as he brutally shagged me, his breathing growing heavier by the second. "Fuck!" he shouted, slamming into me full-force as he began to ejaculate. "Oh, yeah. Oh, fuck, _yeah! _Hermi… _GRANGER!" _

He climaxed as hard as I had, and I could actually feel him filling me up with warm fluid. His orgasm lasted longer than average, as he kept coming inside me. I held still, letting my lover find his perfect ending, just as I had.

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_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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_**AUTHOR'S EXTENDED NOTES:**_

**The song mentioned in this chapter is "Closer" by Nine Inch Nails. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**I should warn you that there are more than a few chappys of fun smut ahead (like you couldn't figure that out from the disclaimer in chapter 1), but all of this yummy fun is also vital to the character & plot development. This isn't just a story about sex, although it's the plot bunny necessary to drive the story to its ultimate conclusion. Just FYI.**

**Enjoy!**

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_**CHAPTER THREE**_

**Festival of Sins**  
**The Den and Centro, London, England**  
**July 12, 2003 – Saturday Night (Special Event: Carnival of Naughty Fun – A Celebration of 'Gula - Gluttony')**

Draco was acutely aroused the next time we met. Perhaps it had been the month-long separation giving him ample opportunity to fantasize about what he'd do to me this round, or maybe my outfit was the source of his provoked energy. Whatever the cause, his eyes burned ravenously hot and his face was dark and grim with sexual hunger when he spotted me coming into the club with Ginny. I spied him at our usual table on the side of the room almost instantly, leaning back in a tall bar stool, waiting for me to come to him.

It was disturbingly powerful, almost spell-bindingly compelling how I was unable to tear my eyes away from his the moment our gazes locked, as if Malfoy were silently beckoning me with serpentine mind-magic to come forward and be his again. That carnal observance never left me as I wound through the throng crowding the pedestrian path on the outskirts of the main floor.

There was half an hour of an almost prerequisite, idle chit-chat (mostly shouting loudly in each other's ear) and, thanks to Zabini's generosity, we were all able to throw back two shots apiece of tequila. We spent absolutely no time on the dance floor. He commented on the single red rose I'd tucked into my cleavage, curious as to my use of it as an accessory. I told him flat-out that it had been the one he'd sent along with this month's ticket, and I'd found it simply too beautiful to part with. That, apparently, had been the absolute right thing to say.

Almost exactly thirty minutes after I arrived at the club, I found myself in a private room again in the back of the club with my date. "I still like you better wearing dresses or skirts," he informed, clearly disgruntled as he unzipped the dark brown, suede low-riders I wore. "Easier to take off."

"But these I can wear without lingerie," I informed him with a sultry, sybaritic smile, pulling the rose out from between my breasts and carefully dropping it onto the nearby bench for later retrieval. I wanted to magic it frozen and keep it in remembrance of this night.

He yanked the material down to my thighs and his attitude did an abrupt about-face. "So you can, sweet thing. Good." He decisively nodded and looked me in the eye. "Anytime you wear slacks for me in the future, you will not wear knickers with them – do you understand?"

It must have been a combination of his commanding tone, the almost boyish grin that was plastered to his face, and his lewdly-narrowed quicksilver eyes roaming over my naked mound like he wanted to dine upon it immediately that caused my throat to thicken with desire. I was suddenly _starved _for him - for what we were about to do, and unable to find my voice, I eagerly nodded to his requirement instead.

When I was completely naked, the tempo changed entirely to a disproportionate level of tenderness as Draco dropped to his knees before me and his mouth delved into my slit without further ado, licking with deliberately slow, torturous caresses of his tongue through my moist lower lips. "Oh, _sweet Circe!" _I moaned with ecstasy as his tongue magically caressed my clit. I was panting, watching that platinum head rhythmically slide up and down as he moved over me with voracious expertise. His hands gripped my waist, holding me still as he lavished great attention on orally pleasuring me, eagerly feasting upon my pussy. I came for him in mere minutes, my eyes closed as delightful aftershocks rolled through me.

Greedy in his pursuit of his own sexual satisfaction, he put me on my knees next and made me suck him into readiness. Tasting the silky fluid that was smeared across his tip and smelling his unique, musky scent along the ridge of his cock and inner thighs made me hedonistically desperate for a second release.

I practically swallowed him; taking him in as far as I could comfortably fit, relishing the small spurts of his pre-come as they escaped into the cavern of my mouth. Both famished and thirsty for every bit of him, I sucked him eagerly, loving how his cock came alive across my teeth, scraping the roof of my mouth, and against my tongue. I felt powerful, wild – almost feral. His penis violently twitched as I swirled my lips about him, and he groaned with abandon, his eyes rolling back in his head. I'd looked up just in time to catch the uninhibited action. It made me feel powerful to know I could rule his pleasure, and for half a second, I envisioned tying him up and having my way with him tonight.

Ginny might have been right about me being a 'switch.'

When he was ready to let go, he took his power back, requiring I take him deep into my throat, further than I'd ever done before. He fucked my mouth like he owned it, gripping my hair in a gentle, but firm clasp and thrusting his hips at the pace he liked. "Swallow every drop, Granger," he growled as he tensed up, preparing to spill over. "I want my seed in your belly."

I did as he bade, relishing being ordered about, free of thought and feelings outside of our sordid affair. I sucked him off with all my skill, and when he tensed, his hands tightening slightly through my curls, I knew he was only seconds away from release. Wiggling my tongue about his head brought him; hot, delicious semen spurted against the roof of my mouth to the chorus of his gasping moans and half a dozen more forceful pelvic surges. I drank him down, took him back further with each explosion, until the final burst slid down my throat effortlessly.

As soon as he was completely expended, Draco dropped to his knees in front of me and pulled me over his lap, fingering deep into the sumptuous, wet heat of my cunt, his thumb expertly rolling my clit. I was so close already, it wouldn't take much. His mouth devoured mine in a sensual kiss that allowed him to taste his essence across my tongue. "Say my name when you come for me again, sweet thing," he murmured as I tightened up all of my lower muscles, my fingernails breaking skin on his shoulders, my hips riding his two fingers with desperation. I tossed my head back just as he had and moaned his name to the ceiling as I orgasmed around his stilling hand.

His forehead pressed into the hollow of my neck and he shook with lingering desire. "We'll rest for a bit." He lifted his head and his mouth to the whorl of my ear. "But we're not even close to being finished tonight, Granger. You're mine for at least the next hour. I'm going to cuff you to the wall and spank you hard. I want your pretty bum to blush for me. Then I'm going to fuck your pussy _and _your sweet, virgin arse. I'm breaking you in." He bit over my pulse, sending shockwaves of renewing desire through me. "You're going to come for me over and over until I'm fully satisfied that you can't take anymore. I want you exhausted, sore and glowing for me. I want you walking on air and getting wet at the memory of tonight for the next four weeks - until the next time you meet me here. Do you understand?"

My response seemed to be automatic, and came from somewhere deep inside that part of me that liked being ordered about by an authoritarian figure. "Yes, sir."

"That's my sweet girl - my princess," he crooned, kissing me thoroughly, until all thought ceased, and there was only Draco Malfoy around me, in me, and I existed only for him and the pleasure he brought me.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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**AUTHOR'S END NOTES:**

**Please don't forget to thanks UNSEENLIBRARIAN for all her work beta-ing this story for us, if you decide to leave a review (I'd love to hear from you, BTW, so please do!). :)**


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER FOUR**_

**Festival of Sins**  
**The Den and Centro, London, England**  
**August 9, 2003 – Saturday Night (Special Event: Carnival of Naughty Fun – A Celebration of 'Avaritia - Greed')**

I wore what he'd asked in the attached note he'd sent with the ticket – a very short, skimpy satin dress that glittered with gold, black flames tonguing it in a random pattern. The cleavage dipped, the straps were thin things on my shoulders, barely enough to hold the material in place, and I found the perfect pair of boots – black patent-leather, tie-up and strap-up design that fell just below the knee and had a sexy four-inch stiletto heel (I even tucked the red rose he'd sent this month into one of the straps, sealing it there with a sticking charm). I wore no knickers or bra, per his instructions.

Draco liked the ensemble _very _much.

The moment we spied each other – me by the door, he by our usual table - we rushed through the crowd to meet. On the edge of the dance floor, we melted together. Being pulled into his chest was like coming home; the warm, familiar solace of his embrace vanished my apprehension as if by magic. Ginny and Blaise were only background noise then, along with the rest of the throng. My lover covetously held me tight against him with a dark possessiveness I'd never seen in his face and I cherished being wanted so much. It was only a sexual attachment, I reminded myself, but to be so salaciously desired satisfied the woman in me - that part that I had always believed to be inferior.

We didn't dance, didn't move - just absorbed each other, our eyes roaming, avariciously assessing. When he dipped his nose down, his lips hovering over mine, it became apparent that slowly building the anticipation wasn't in the cards for tonight. The tension between us was already thick enough to wade through.

Picking me up bridal style, he led me towards the back of the club, wending through the swarm of parti-colored, freakishly dressed people, nodding in familiarity at the bouncer at the "Employees Only" door as he held it open for us to glide through (making me absently wonder if I was the only woman Malfoy brought back here to have such a relationship already established with the hired help). Having pre-paid for a room, he headed towards number three tonight. I took the key from him and unlocked the door. He forcefully kicked it closed behind us, crossed the room, and tossed me into the middle of the bed, crawling between my sprawled legs without pause.

He was all male aggressiveness as he pulled my dress over my hips, groaning as he noted there was no barrier between my legs to cover my pussy from the elements. Fabric rustled as he moved about, a zip was pulled down, and he yanked my legs up rather roughly, supporting them on his shoulders. Gripping my arse, he yanked my bottom off the bed and up into the cradle of his pelvis. "Hold onto the frame," he commanded, his voice a greedy rasp.

Peeking through my lids, I sinuously drew my arms back and blindly grabbed for the metal rails, holding tight. I could tell by the intensity in his shadowed face that he was going to ride me hard and fast. He intended on _possessing _me tonight.

Lining his penis up, he slammed home with no further instruction and absolutely no foreplay, groaning in satisfaction as the head of his crest hit the very back of my channel and I yelped. "Safe word," he stopped and reminded me.

"Venus," I restated the same phrase upon which we'd previously agreed.

Draco grunted, and proceeded to pound me into the mattress, unleashing all of his strength and force. It hurt _so good. _Tears streamed down the sides of my face, and I was unreservedly screaming with bliss into the rafters in less than a minute. "Yes, _YES! _I've missed this! Take me, Draco! Take me and… oh, gods… _GIVE ME MORE! _I need _more!" _

He rode hard, fast. We were both dripping with sweat as he bent my legs even further back, leaning over me now, his grip on my arse cheeks bruising. "I love this gorgeous outfit you wore for me tonight and… _bloody hell, _these boots, Granger!" he rapturously hissed between clenched teeth. "Fuck! I _love _shagging you. I can't get enough! No matter how many times I come in you, sweet thing, I always want more and more." He grunted as he tensed up, getting ready to tumble over the edge. "You're a drug, my princess - a killer drug I can't stop wanting."

I couldn't speak to tell him I felt the same, my breath ripped from me as his words sent me tumbling off the edge of reason. I came in a flash of silver light behind my lids. He drove me immediately into a second orgasm as the first retreated by rolling and pinching my clit at the same time as pounding hard, finally shooting off into me with a hoarse shout at the same moment, bending me so far back that his hands covered mine on the rails, as if he needed that connection to center himself.

He voraciously took me again not a few minutes later, choosing positions that twisted me up underneath him to maintain his total domination of me. Each time, I greedily, lustily cried out for him to complete me, my soul secretly screaming for Malfoy to fill all of the aching holes in my life – physical and otherwise.

**X~~~X**

In the final afterglow, we lay on our bellies, half a foot apart, silently staring at each other. My thoughts were extremely conflicted as I fell into his grey, impassive gaze. A part of me wanted to hop up and rabbit for the exit. Another part of me wanted to curl into my lover's body and have him hold me. Was he thinking the same thing?

"If I bought you tickets for the rest of this year's Festivals, would you come?" he tentatively asked, breaking the stillness in the room.

Something shifted between us at that precise moment.

When I looked back on this night years later, I would recognize that Draco's seemingly innocuous question was one of the most important I'd ever been asked in my life, as it created one of those 'ultimate divergent paths'- you know, the ones that change your life irrevocably, for better or worse. I'd rank my answer pretty high up there, too; somewhere along the same lines as accepting my original Hogwarts invitation, my initial befriending of Harry and Ron, and the morning I _Obliviated _my parents so I could commit fully to the defeat of Voldemort the Mad.

To date, there had been no discussion on the issue of a 'relationship' between Malfoy and me. It was an unspoken agreement between us that we were attracted to each other and apparently liked the sex enough to keep coming back for more. Now though, he seemed to want to make our clandestine encounters an on-going, permanent arrangement, and as a result, the questions and issues between us became more convoluted.

Frankly, did I want to continue playing out this odd scenario, me in the submissive role, he my dominating sex partner? Where would it lead? Or would things play out as Ginny had predicted, and would one of us – most likely me, as I could feel myself becoming more and more attached to him each time we met - get emotionally hurt? If I agreed to his proposal, would that make me his mistress - or worse, a prostitute (for, in effect, he _was _paying for my sexual company)? I couldn't reconcile it all in just a few minutes contemplation, my brain half-fuzzed from endorphins, the other half of me emotionally in turmoil. Yet clearly, he expected an immediate answer.

Insecurity flashed for just a second through Draco's eyes as I paused for several minutes in silence to consider my answer, and he opened his mouth to, I assumed, retract the offer.

"Ginny said I'm a 'switch,'" I quickly settled on admitting, hoping it would explain my hesitation. "She says you're not. That you're a Dom and that fact wouldn't change. It could create problems for us continuing… _this. _At least, that was her assessment."

Malfoy stared into my soul with those young-old eyes of his. The war, it seemed, had really done a bang-up job on him, too. "It's true, I like being in control," he confessed. "I couldn't be so long as… _he_… was my Master." He flipped onto his back and raised his left forearm up for me to see the white scar in the shape of the Dark Mark; it had faded out, but could never be gotten rid of, I knew. Once marked, forever done, I'd heard the saying go around. "For two years, that bastard owned me, and I had to do whatever he said, whenever he wanted. I hated it - hated _him _for making me into a slave."

I'd never heard or seen Draco be so open and honest – not even during his trial, which I'd attended after the dust from the last battle had finally settled. Five years had changed a lot more than his looks, apparently. I shut my mouth and listened, carefully watching his expressions for cues.

"I swore I'd never let anyone lord over me again like that. _Never._" He paused, running his fingertips lightly over the scar, his lips turned up in a sneer of hatred. "Worst mistake of my life."

"But," I thought it safe to say what I was thinking, "between you and me, it wouldn't be like that. I could never…" I trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken. Could I hurt him? Physically, yes. I was magically powerful enough to do a lot to him that could leave some permanent scarring. Emotionally? I wasn't sure how much influence I had on him in that regard, but I suppose if he allowed me the opportunity, it's quite possible I could do some damage there if I put my mind to it. But I knew I didn't _want _to do either of those things to him, and that's all that mattered, right?

His arm dropped back down to the mattress and he turned his head - and just like that, his dark mood shifted again, and he was smirking with amusement, a look I was well familiar with from our youth. "Really? I can recall a rather hard slap I received back in third year. And then there was a certain hex in fourth year that-"

Embarrassed by such memories, I huffed in amusement. "Well, it's not as if you didn't have it coming then," I brusquely cut him off. "Really, Draco, you were a horridly spoiled child, and you know it."

Rolling onto his side, he pulled a lock of my hair. "And you were a bushy-haired know-it-all, Granger." He rubbed the strands between his fingers. "I like the curls best. Next time, leave it natural like this."

Leaning up, I supported my head in the palm of a hand and tweaked an eyebrow at him again. "Oh, so we've decided there _will _be a next time, then - just like that? Sorry, but you didn't do a good enough job selling me on the idea, Malfoy."

He pounced, shoving me onto my back and straddling my waist, pinning my wrists to the mattress. "You need incentive?" he asked in a richly-enticing tone, adjusting his stance so that he was kneeling between my spread legs, his thighs shoving mine up over his, angling us for another round of sex. Against my swollen, inner lips, I felt the head of his cock already wet and hard; it moved to position itself at my entrance. "Try this." He fucked into my sex hard with one powerful thrust, going deep – as deep as he could go. I screamed in pleasure-pain and wrapped my legs around his waist, wanting the feeling of being so full with him to never end.

By the time I was close to climaxing again, the slippery Slytherin had gotten me to agree that we _would _meet again for the remaining Carnival of Sins this year.

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_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER FIVE**_

**The Burrow**  
**Ottery St. Catchpole, England**  
**September 13, 2003 – Saturday Early Afternoon**

His owl had requested I wear something sensual, not sexual this time. He wanted a flowing dress and lingerie that he could take off at his leisure. His whole attitude fit this month's Carnival theme, I amusedly noted. To my surprise, however, Ginny tried to talk me out of going altogether.

"Let's just skip going there this month, a'right?"

Instantly, I understood: she and Zabini must have had a falling out. "Okay," I began, taking a deep breath and sitting closer to my best girlfriend on the couch. "What did that snake-in-the-grass do to you?" I asked, both concerned for my best friend and instantly suspicious of the dark-skinned Slytherin she'd been seeing.

Ginny shook her head, but there were standing tears in her eyes. They choked her voice when she spoke. "I just… it's better he and I don't see each other anymore."

Clearly, my friend was broken-hearted by the admission. I'd thought this thing she'd had with Blaise Zabini had only been fun for her, but clearly, she'd gotten in over her head. It was obvious to all and sundry that she actually liked the handsome Italian wizard.

"Why would you say that?" I asked, trying to be supportive, but at the same time, trying to unravel her reasons for the sudden wall she was erecting. "I thought you two had great chemistry?"

Crimson hair slid over her cheeks as Ginny dipped her head and cried. She looked so small, vulnerable and forlorn sitting there, all hunched up on the sofa. "He's a dark wizard, 'Mione. It doesn't matter that he never took the Mark or joined the ranks of Death Eaters! His mother supported You-Know-Who during the war, even if he didn't openly pick a side. Somehow, that's even worse to some! Everyone's warned me off of him except you, and that's because you're in a similar fix!" Her tears flowed now, dripping down her pale cheeks. "Sleeping with him was one thing, but I'm not supposed to like him this much. And everyone expects me to go back to Harry once I've gotten out of my 'wild streak,' as mum calls it. The fuck of it all is that Harry still wants me, even knowing what I'm doing, and who I'm with. But, oh 'Mione, I don't feel the same way for Harry anymore. We tried and it didn't work. But he's so sweet and understanding and he said he'd wait for me. Blaise has never said anything romantic like that to me, but it's _him_ I think about all the time! The thought of Harry touching me… I _can't! _All I want is Blaise! What should I do?" She was sobbing, distressed by her jumbled feelings.

Gin was right – I did understand exactly where she was coming from, because Ron still pursued me. Oh, not as heavily; he'd drop by my desk at the Ministry every few weeks and ask me to coffee or dinner, and I'd always politely decline. He never gave up, though. I just didn't have those types of feelings for him anymore. He'd been my first, and until Malfoy, my only. The sex had been fumbling, but adequate, but the rest… not so good. We did better as friends. When it ended, I'd had no intention of ever looking back.

Recently, though, I admit I'd been having doubts about the men in my life, too. Specifically, where was this thing with Malfoy going? He never contacted me in any fashion, except to owl me a single ticket once a month. We met at the club one night every four weeks, had hot sex and then I would always be the first to dress and leave. He would watch me go, never making a move to stop me. Did he even care? I assumed so, as he'd always insert somewhere in our moments together the idea that there would be a next time. But you know what they say about assuming anything…

ASS. U. ME.

Straight up: what was I getting out of my 'relationship' with Draco? Sexual gratification? Sure. A release for a little while from the stress of work that plagued me? Yes, that was an obvious perk. For me to step outside my comfort zones, my boundaries, to be truly free from being _me _for even just a few hours was definitely a high. But none of those things, even together, a healthy relationship did make. When you added into the mix of all of my current lover's negative aspects – including being a known Death Eater with a shady history before and during the war – well, quite clearly I'd created a volatile situation that was sure to blow-up in my face someday.

Perhaps it would be better to go back to the familiar – to Ron – where society expected me to find my ultimate happiness, and where I could have outward respectability, if not loyalty, love or passion.

_No, not better, just easier, _a voice in the back of my head rather bluntly pointed out.

I felt a twist of shame for having thought of using my ex as an escape, or for running from Malfoy simply because of our shared, negative past. As far as I knew from the papers, he'd been a productive member of society as an adult, taking that second chance he'd been granted by the Wizengamot to heart (I still didn't know what he did for a living, but clearly, he hadn't been arrested for it, so it had to be legit); there had been no backsliding into dark arts as far as the press had sniffed out.

Besides, I didn't want to be so flippant with my regard. The fact was I liked Draco – _a lot_. If I had to be perfectly honest with myself, what I felt for him bordered on a deeply growing obsession. He was never far from my thoughts and not just because of the sex (although it _was _incredible). I'd discovered that I also liked the moments in between or after the physical play when we actually interacted. He was very conscientious of assuring my pleasure during our sessions, asking me to tell him what things I didn't like (so far, nothing), or what he'd like us to try next (this last time, he'd given me the light clit spanking I'd asked for in between shagging me rotten and my orgasm had been phenomenal). I was still quite clearly his sub, and he was using these conversations to assess how best to go about our interactions, but it felt like an intimate thing to share. It seemed like we were growing closer. At least, I hoped we were.

I realized I'd been silent for too long, and was contemplating not my BFF's situation, but my own. Some friend I was! "Gin, you're putting the cart before the horse here. Maybe you just need to find out exactly how you feel about Blaise before you work yourself up into a tizzy over him," I counseled. "See him again, but not at the club. Meet him at a café for tea or coffee instead. Sit and talk to him. No sex. That way, you can see if what the two of you have is worth pursuing before you go working yourself up over the issue. Tackle one thing at a time and you won't be so conflicted."

My redheaded friend rubbed the tears from her cheeks with a shaky hand and sniffed. "You make it sound so simple."

I shrugged. "If you like him, and he likes you, then you have to weigh if what other people think about your relationship is more important than your feelings for him. But first, you have to decide if you like him that much to bother. The only way to know is to get down to the basics – become friends. If you can do that, the other stuff will be answered all on its own."

Ginny hugged me enthusiastically in only the way that best friends and sisters can do. "You're so clever, 'Mione."

Internally, I sighed. Yeah, I'd just _cleverly _given advice to my best friend that I wasn't sure I was brave enough to take myself. Talk about ironic.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**PLEASE REVIEW! I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story thus far, and where you think it'll head...**

**Aside from getting on my knees and thanking the heavens above for UNSEENLIBRARIAN, my beta on this story, I also have to give due credit to my daughter, for she is responsible for helping me with the slang here. Much of it I had never even heard before, but thankfully, I have a savvy teenager who likes to try to keep me abreast of the 'hip' words of the day here in the UK, as well as American-isms. Thank Merlin for that, or else I'd really be uncool.**


	6. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER SIX**_

**Festival of Sins**  
**The Den and Centro, London, England**  
**September 13, 2003 – Saturday Night (Special Event: Carnival of Naughty Fun – A Celebration of 'Acedia - Sloth')**

Everything was different this time.

First, Ginny didn't come with me, and she must have informed Zabini by owl of her intentions, because he didn't show either.

Second, Draco waited outside the club for me, escorting me inside on his arm. Whether this was because he didn't want to go in as a single bloke and appear desperate, or because he wanted everyone to see that we'd come together, I couldn't tell.

Third, we skipped out on the table and drinking altogether.

Fourth, we danced - not just for a song or two, but for almost two hours. We moved together on the dance floor to the night's musical selection, which leaned towards the more lazy-hedonistic trance and re-mixed pop and rock songs, rather than the usual punk, R&B or industrial sounds that typically shook the house until the midnight hour. The DJ was clearly keeping with the Carnival's theme for the night and the music was meant to enhance the mood. The lighting was too; it was turned way down – just barely legal by the Fire Marshall's code. Thank goodness the doorman had given us both neon necklaces and bracelets – two a piece - as part of our admission for tonight's event, as it provided me with a minimal amount of light by which I could see Draco's face once I snapped and shook them, then put them about us both. He held me close as we sinuously swayed together to songs like "Blood Sugar Sex Magik" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers, a trance-remix of "Principals of Lust," by Enigma, and Motorcycle's "Around You."

Fifth, we touched each other endlessly in an exploratory fashion, but things remained sensual, as if Malfoy were more interested in spending quality time with me rather than satisfying himself with a quick, hot shag. I was the one who upped the ante when I stroked over his covered cock several times. It was so dark that no one could see, as all of my glowing bracelets were on a single wrist, and that wasn't the one that was currently engaged in a little southern naughtiness.

He leaned his mouth closer to my ear. "Unzip and touch me," he growled, and then his hand was up my dress, caressing me under my knickers. Right there on the crowded dance floor, we mutually masturbated, and when that wasn't enough for me, I lifted a leg over his hips, begging for more even as we kissed. Shoving my panties to the side, practically tearing them, Draco aligned his cock by bending his knees and he slid into me, gripping my arse firmly, even as my arms went about his neck. He fucked me with thick, long, slow strokes in time to the pulsing beat of the music.

Just as I climbed the peak towards the ultimate fulfillment, he pulled out and dropped me back down. "Room. _Now,_" was all he said as he tucked his hard, wet penis back in and zipped up. I wiggled my knickers back into place and followed him as he took my hand and led me towards the back of the club. The bouncer shook his head, however, as we neared. "All booked for the night. Sorry," he explained.

I could feel Malfoy's frustration in his grip and could see it in the dim light near the Employees' door as he considered where we could go. The moment he looked towards the loo, I knew where he intended to drag me. I tried to pull away; I was absolutely not going to be shagged in a public toilet – no way. That was a line for me. I firmly shook my head as he looked back at me, a question in his gaze.

"Not there," I shouted over the background noise.

Draco gave me an exasperated look. "Trust me," he bent and spoke into my ear and pulled me after him.

I blamed insanity and hormones all the way into the men's.

The place was already in use by couples who'd had the same idea. One man had his woman bent over the vanity and was fucking her from behind without a care as to who was watching. From the green-painted stalls, I could hear the sounds of moaning and banging, and underneath all five doors, every single one had two pairs of feet sharing the same small space.

Malfoy glanced at the shagging couple who were too busy to pay attention to us, and quickly pulled out his wand, hiding it between us. "Hold on," he commanded, and in a pop, we Disapparated out of the club.

**X~~~X**

_**Malfoy's Private Penthouse Suite  
Overlooking Hyde Park, London, England  
September 13, 2003 – Saturday Night (seconds later) **_

"Where are we?" I asked, even as his mouth hungrily pressed in upon mine.

My partner didn't bother to answer. Instead, his hands slid under my dress again and this time, he thumbed the edges of my knickers and tugged them slowly over my hips and down my thighs, pulling them off an ankle at a time. With the same slow sensuality as he'd shown me in the club, he ran his hands over my bared bum, caressing. His lips were scorching and his tongue devious in coaxing my thighs to part, although they never dipped where I wanted them to, teasingly skirting my pussy entirely. I was whimpering by the time he'd pulled his mouth away from trailing down my thigh to regain his height and press his forehead to mine, stilling in his gentle touches to allow us both time to breathe.

"Do you like this?" he asked, and I had the impression that there was more to the question than was being spoken.

Instead of prying and ruining the moment, I simply told him the truth. "Very much."

His lips burned a path over my cheek and jaw, and down my neck to suckle and nibble with that same tenderness. "A lady should be treated as such," he murmured as he spoiled me with small kisses, fingering over the red rose that I'd tucked under the barrette I'd used to pin my hair up on the left side, acknowledging it with a small, pleased smile. "Tonight, I've been remiss in doing so."

I gasped as he bit down a little hard over my pulse. "I liked what we did," I refuted before I could censor my mouth. "It felt good."

He hummed along the line of my throat. "Yes, it felt _very_ good, but you deserve better than to be shagged in public like that." He ran his mouth back along a reverse course until his lips hovered over mine and we were both breathing heavy with anticipation. "You're not some common witch, Granger. You've _never _been."

With that, he lifted me into his arms, bridal-style once again, and carried me into the bedroom. His gaze was burning as he laid me gently down in the middle of the largest bed I've ever seen, following me over, his face inches from mine. We spent long moments gazing at each other, and I assessed him carefully in that time. His jaw was tight, his gaze almost feverish with desire.

Tentatively, I reached up and ran my fingertips over his cheek, touching very lightly, exploring him in a way I never had before. He let me, watching, waiting, showing no obvious strain from bracing all his weight on his arms and shoulders. Having gripped those muscles in the throes of passion more than once, I knew them to be strong, honed by some sort of exercise and I wondered what he did in his spare time when we weren't together. I knew virtually nothing about Draco Malfoy as an adult other than what the newspapers or gossip pages occasionally reported. Clearly, he did manual labor of some sort or worked out to stay in shape (probably the latter, since he had no calluses on his hands).

I feathered across his goatee and lips and he pressed a small kiss to my fingertips in passing. "You grew up, too, you know. You're _so _different," I commented, amazed by his handsome features. My thoughts carried a greater significance than the issue of mere physical transformation, though. Malfoy had matured intellectually and emotionally, no longer the irrational bigot and bully he'd been before the war, insofar as I could tell. I mean, he was sleeping with me – a Muggle-born – which had to indicate his prejudice had at least flip-flopped, showing a distinct difference in his thinking.

"In a good way?" he asked, as I trailed my fingers over his jaw, around the shell of an ear and into his baby-fine hair.

I couldn't help it; the mischief-maker in me peeked out and threw him a sultry smile. "In a _delicious _way," I purred and then ruined the façade with a giggle.

Draco's smile lit up his face in an expression I'd never once seen from him before: true happiness. His eyes merrily twinkled, his teeth glimmered white. "That was a given, sweet thing," he arrogantly agreed, dropping his mouth to mine and capturing me in a heated, lazy kiss.

He languidly undressed me by having me flip onto my belly, seeming to take great enjoyment in the act. His fingers skimmed every inch of my skin, from head to heel, and his mouth followed. I remained in place like a good, little sub should as he shed his own clothing, relaxing into the luxurious, fresh linen-scented coverlet. He kissed his way up my spine, his naked chest skimming my bared flesh as he headed for the bend of my neck. Looming over me, his hips cradled into the vee of my thighs, his hard cock resting between my cheeks, he lavished wet, sucking kisses to the side of my throat. Rubbing with easy restraint, he had me wet and straining in moments. "I offer you a choice, my princess: how do you want me to take you this first time?" he murmured low next to my ear, breathing warm air against my tingling skin, causing my insides to twist and burn.

He was giving me a choice? Did I want him to? It would change the dynamics of this weird relationship we had going, switching me from pure submissive to an equal. Did that mean something significant? Was he telling me in some mysterious Slytherin way that he wanted more than just once a month sex from me?

I bit my lip in consternation. What to do?

His pelvis rhythm never let up, but he bit my earlobe for not replying in a timely manner. Ah, there was the Dom I liked and craved. That show of possessiveness made my decision easy for me. "Take me how you will," I indolently surrendered into the comfort of the submissive role once more. "I know you'll make it wonderful for me, Draco."

He paused, and I felt his heated breath flutter on an exhale, understanding that I was openly giving myself to him _and _showing him unconditional trust. I spoke no safe word for tonight's adventures; I didn't think I'd need one this time. I might have balked at the idea myself, had I been a third-party bystander who knew the details of the Granger-Malfoy history, but for some reason, this felt like the right course of action to take at this particular time. My conscience and instinct actually liked the decision I'd made, and they overruled my rationality and sanity (neither of which had had much of a say in my relationship with Malfoy to date, anyway).

In the next draw of his breath, he did as I asked – flipping me over and taking me how he wanted: working his big, luscious cock into me by slow, deliberate inches, and then thrusting away with thick, long, all-encompassing strokes that touched the far back of my channel on every measured, unhurried surge forward. He locked his gaze onto mine the whole time and watched as my cheeks bloomed with blood, as my eyes glazed with need, and as my lips parted to beg him to let me come.

He did as I asked, pressing his forehead to mine and bringing us both to rapture with a tightening of lower muscles, the pace of his careful, leisurely surges never changing.

It was only as I drifted off in his arms in the afters that I realized three things: first, I was going to fall asleep with him for the first time, and two, I was lying in his arms, in his bed and Malfoy seemed to like me there very much (he was very lightly running a hand over my face and hair to intentionally lull me into a state of relaxed drowsiness), and three, he had called out my given name as he'd orgasmed, not my family's last name.

Our relationship, I realized, had just switched on me, but I was honestly too tired to give it much thought. I fell asleep without further ado.

**X~~~X**

Years later, I could pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with Draco Malfoy:

I awoke in his private suite the next morning after our wonderful sex marathon – which had continued throughout the night in between intervals of sleep – to find myself wonderfully sore and very much alone. On the pillow next to me was a single red rose, perfectly magicked into life from, most likely, an _Orchidius _spell. A note written on fine linen paper rested under the flower.

_**Thank you for last night – it was deliciously decadent, my princess.**_

_**P.S. I tracked down an extra copy of Eldred Worple's new book on vampiric creatures before press, and left the manuscript on the bedside table, assuming you'd be interested. I think you'd take great pleasure from it, as it's within your professional area of expertise. **_

It happened right then. Did you catch it?

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**CHAPTER SEVEN**_

**Festival of Sins**  
**The Den and Centro, London, England**  
**October 11, 2003 – Saturday Night (Special Event: Carnival of Naughty Fun – A Celebration of 'Ira - Wrath')**

I found the perfect dress for tonight's event in a woman's fetish shop only last weekend. It was made of the softest silk, was in my favorite color blue, and was elegantly sexy, not slaggy. The top of the dress was a halter-style, attached to the very short skirt only in the middle of my belly by a circle of fabric that was delicately sewn together. The hoop-look repeated in the back, leaving a two-inch width of skin between the two pieces all the way around my midrift and between my breasts. I paired the look with a silver necklace and silver three-inch heels with an ankle strap. I'd slipped the red rose (which was in full bloom) into the top waist of the skirt portion of my dress, right above my kitty. It actually looked rather sexy there. I wore no bra and no knickers to maintain the flawless seam of the fabric over skin.

Malfoy loved it. From the moment I walked into the club at Gin's side, and our eyes met, I knew he wanted to fuck me in the dress. There would be no clothing removal for me tonight. I probably wouldn't even remove my shoes. The rose would probably be ruined.

We danced for a while, but it was more provocative swaying as we held onto each other, ignoring the speed of the music entirely. We kissed, and it was sweet and hot, and told me that he absolutely desired me, but also wanted to take it a bit slow and relish our time together. We were in our own world, lost to the game of seduction. We agreed to skip out in another hour or so.

At the appointed time, I returned to the table briefly as he excused himself for the loo. Gin and Blaise were absent, and I wondered if they were partaking of a room in the back themselves.

A Muggle sat down in the empty chair across from me. He was holding out a shot glass of clear liquid and predatorily smiling at me in challenge. To say he was handsome was an understatement; he was model gorgeous – tall, coal-black hair and long matching lashes, amber-whiskey eyes, strong jaw and well-defined body (from what I could see by the cut of his clothing).

I shook my head and deferred, letting him know with hand signals that I was with someone.

He mouthed a reply. "So?"

I shook my head again, firmer this time. "Sorry," I shouted. "Taken."

His eyes dipped to my cleavage and quickly back to meet my gaze. "I want to fuck you," he mouthed.

I scowled, readjusted the strap of my bag so it lay close to my hip and stood up, walking towards the restrooms without another word, hoping to make it clear I wasn't interested. Two steps away, though, and the stranger caught my wrist in a strong grip. He pulled me back and his mouth pressed to my ear before I could react. I smelled strong alcohol on his breath. "Come on, beautiful, don't be like that!"

Draco suddenly appeared, seeming to step right out of the shadows, his face a dark mask of furious anger. With his midnight-black, industrial Goth costume and matching boots, and his countenance telling all in range that he was hungry to do murder, he reminded me of the Death Eaters he'd once been associated with. Involuntarily, I stepped back from ground zero – as far as I could get before the belligerent wanker who had a hold on me tightened his grip and I could go no further.

My lover took one look at the fool who'd dared to touch me, stepped into the man's personal space, meeting him eye-to-eye and giving him a cold smile. An instant later, there was a muted red flash, as if someone had quickly turned on and then off again a neon light – not overtly strange in a place like this, with the lights flashing all about us - and the drunken man's grip on my wrist went slack as he crumpled to the floor.

Without pause, Draco grabbed my wrist and yanked me after him as he hurried through the room back towards the restrooms. I didn't look back, afraid security was right on our tail. I knew my overly-aggressive suitor would be all right, though. The red light told me he had simply been knocked unconscious. If untreated with magic, he'd come around in half an hour or thereabout, all on his own. For a minute there, I'd sworn I would see green flash before my eyes instead, and was thankful that wasn't the case. Draco Malfoy had gotten a once-in-a-lifetime pass by the Wizengamot; he wouldn't be so lucky a second time, especially if he used _Avada Kedavra_.

Ginny and Blaise appeared, as if summoned, meeting us in the hallway leading to the bathrooms. The music was somewhat muted here, thankfully, so we could talk.

"What happened? Are you all right? I got a buzz, telling me someone used 'tricks' in here," she explained, using the public code for 'magic.' She indicated the underside of the chunky silver bracelet about her wrist, where her wand had been shrunken and stored for the night for safe-keeping. "Was it either of you?"

Draco said nothing, his face grim. I spoke for us. "A man was assaulting me - making lewd comments and he grabbed onto me and wouldn't let go. I think he intended on forcing himself on me. Draco had to red-spell him to get him to release me." 'Red-spell' was code for _Stupefy_. I knew Gin would understand.

Ginny let out a deep breath. "At least it wasn't green-spell," she commented, echoing my earlier thoughts. "They'll already know, though. We have to go explain." There was no question as to who the 'they' were; the Ministry always had a way of finding out when magic was used in the presence of Muggles, although I _still _did not know how they accomplished that, even after all these years.

All of us nodded, and we left the club together. Draco held my hand firmly in his the whole time, and when we Disapparated a safe distance away, he took me by Side-Along, refusing to let me go.

**X~~~X**

**The Ministry of Magic  
London, England  
October 11, 2003 – Saturday morning (an hour later) **

We were separated to give our individual statements to the Hit Wizards' Office. I was shocked when Ron came into the room I had been led to and took a seat across the table from me, next to the recording officer. The man finished taking my statement as if my ex's presence was of no matter, I noted, which meant he'd expected an Auror on-site for this one. I answered as truthfully as possible to everything asked, and then the man left Ron and I alone to go file his report.

"Aurors are always assigned by the Department in cases involving Death Eaters," he explained without me having to ask.

"Former," I corrected him, knowing a confrontation was inevitable.

Ron casually shrugged. "Whatever. The Malfoys were permanently assigned to Harry by the Minister years ago, though, and since I'm his partner…" He left the rest unspoken with an obvious fill-in-the-blank option. His attention wasn't focused on the conversation, anyway, as he leisurely appraised my outfit from head to toe. It was clear where his mind had strayed. "You never wore anything like that for _me_."

It was my turn to nonchalantly shrug. I unconsciously wrapped my arms about my middle, though, uncomfortable with the heat reflected in his baby blues. It was almost ironic how just last year, I'd have done anything to get him to look at me like that, but now, I wished I was very far away. "I'm exploring different facets of life."

He was silent for a few heartbeats. "Is that how you can explain whoring about with Draco Malfoy?"

There was such vehemence in his tone that I worried for an instant just how far Ron might go in a bout of jealousy. It was time to put the kibosh on his incorrect belief that he held any rights to me whatsoever. That ship had long-since sailed. "No, but I'd say it's a perfect explanation for you and Lavender," I evenly challenged, hating to bring up the past but trying to make a point about throwing stones in glass houses.

The fact remained: Ron had cheated on me, not the other way around. He'd made that bed, so he could lie in it. What I did now that he'd broken us up was none of his bloody business. I told him all of that, and then some in a matter-of-fact voice that left no room for him to say another word to me about my relationship with Draco.

My ex's face had changed a variety of shades in those few minutes, until finally he ran a hand over his eyes and sighed in resignation. "You're right, okay? I fucked it all up, 'Mione, and I'm sorry for it - more sorry that you can know." He despondently peeked at me through half-raised lids. "Could we try again, maybe? Start all over? I promise it'll be different."

With firm resolve, I shook my head. "No, Ron, I'm sorry."

His chair abruptly scraped back as he stood to his full six-foot, three-inch height, towering over me, and I could see in his expression that he was bitterly angry. "I could have him thrown in Azkaban, you know," he threatened in an ominous tone. "A former Death Eater _Stupefying _a Muggle in public… He'd be found guilty before he stepped a foot in the courtroom, and you know it."

I gaped at him with clear astonishment. I'd never suspected Ron would stoop to such horrid deviousness to get revenge. A dozen years we've been friends, and for four of those, we'd even been intimate, and I realized in that second that I didn't really know him at all.

Standing up rather slowly, I met his eye and spoke in a voice of equal menace. "It wasn't bad enough that you deeply hurt me by fucking another woman – my former roommate from school, no less - _in our bed_. Now you threaten to punish me out of spite, because you can't have back what you threw away in the first place?" He cringed with guilt at being reminded of his folly, instantly contrite. At least he still had something of a conscience. I rounded the table and stepped up to him, squaring my shoulders, poking him in the chest and refusing to be intimidated by the likes of my ex-fiancé. "Carry out your threat and I swear to you, Ronald Bilius Weasley, I'll curse your name _forever_."

There's power in speaking a person's full name, and right then, Ron felt it when I called him out. Flinching first, he dropped his gaze to the floor, instantly backing down. His cheeks were pink with humiliation, his freckles bright spots against the backdrop. "I-I-I'm sorry," he murmured, realizing how far out of bounds he'd just stepped and trying to undo the damage. "It's just… Draco Malfoy is _touching _you and you're letting him, and-" Tears wavered in the cerulean sea of his eyes. "I'd hoped that someday you and me… It won't happen now, will it?"

I shook my head. He already knew the answer, as I'd made it clear before. "If there's nothing more, I'd like to go home."

Apparently, I'm rather slow on reaction time the older I get, for the next thing I knew, Ron had me in his arms, I was pressed into his chest in a powerful hug, and his face was cradled in my shoulder. "I still love you, 'Mione! Give us another chance!"

And just my dumb luck, like some bad plot device in a movie script, Ginny picked _that exact moment _to open the door to ask if we were ready to go. Draco, Harry and Blaise stood in the hall just beyond her with a perfect view of the action.

Everything stopped as my eyes met my lover's stormy stare as he took in the compromising scene before him, and my heart caught in my throat, choking me, keeping me from calling out to him as he turned on a Knut and walked away, clearly misunderstanding the situation.

I'm not prone to swear outside of the confines of my mind very often, but… "Shite," I sighed and pushed Ron away.

Ginny arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow at me. "Yeah, no shite."

**X~~~X**

I'd chased Malfoy to the elevators at the end of the floor hallway, struggling not to fall and mangle myself in my heels. "Would you wait up?" I shouted, huffing and puffing as I made it to his side. "It's not… grabbed me… couldn't move… Ron and me…"

He didn't reply, didn't look at me, but his jaw definitely clenched on that last part.

Tapping my heart over my chest to try to calm it, I tried again. "He hasn't let go, but I have. I don't want him that way."

It was awfully quiet between us as I waited for him to reply, my heart still fluttering in my chest. The ping of the elevator let me know it had arrived a few seconds later. The doors swung open, the gate folded to the side, and Malfoy stepped up, pausing in the entrance. "You're not my girlfriend, Granger," he icily stated and moved into the car, pushing the button for the lobby. "No explanation is owed."

I stood there in a state of hurtful shock as first the gate, and then the brass doors closed behind him, definitively severing us. I heard the buzz of him hitting the lobby button, and then the car backed away and rushed upwards, leaving an abysmal hole in its place…

… and in my chest.

Ginny's warm hand slipped into mine, squeezing tight, and suddenly all of the events of the night caught up to me and tears wavered before my eyes.

"It's only eleven and it's Saturday. Fortescue's should still be open for another hour," she kindly offered.

I nodded in agreement and let her lead me away. Thank the heavens for sisters.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**CHAPTER EIGHT**_

**The Ministry of Magic**  
**London, England**  
**October 13, 2003 – Monday morning**

I stared at the red rose lying in the dead center of my desk with the linen note underneath and felt my stomach plummet. Should I even bother reading or just save myself the heartache and toss it?

I always was too inquisitive for my own good health.

_**Agree to dinner with me this Friday night so we can discuss everything?  
P.S. In Rome. **_

It took me throwing myself full-tilt into my work until I crawled home at six that night, exhausted, eating a warm-up of curry over rice, and watching my videotaped episode of _The Edwardian Country House _with no one but Crooks for company to make my decision.

**X~~~X**

_**Hermione Granger's Flat  
Camden, London, England  
October 17, 2003 – Friday Night **_

I coerced Gin into helping me hunt down all week the most elegant, sultry dress in history for tonight's date. Malfoy's return owl on Tuesday to my acceptance indicated it was an upscale restaurant he wanted to take me to in Italy – a country I was excited to visit for the first time. France may corner the market on good wine, but if anyone knew how to make a meal you wouldn't forget, it was the Italians.

With my best girl friend's help, I ended up acquiring for free the dress I desperately wanted rather than purchasing it (because the price of the Carlos Miele original, one-of-a-kind was way out of my price range). Thank goodness the shop owner was a relative of Molly's extended kin who married into the Muggle Miele family, so there was a loyalty that existed there which allowed me to borrow the dress with a promise to return it next week – and not to damage it in any way.

Dressed to the nines, I gave a final look in the mirror at my outfit, hair, nails, jewelry and make-up. Was that really me? I looked like some runway model, wearing the form-fitting, floor-length, silken dress with the brown-grey-peach snake-skin/leopard spot print (an homage to the Slytherin in him and the Gryffindor in me melding into one), and the plunging vee-neckline. The strappy heels were a tasteful shimmering pink-bronze, and the matching pinky-bronze zirconia jewelry (necklace, earrings, ring, bracelet) went well with them. My make-up was tasteful – shimmery pinky-bronze shadow and cheeks, a little bolder bronze on the lips, black mascara and liner that had been toned down – and glamour charmed to stay perfect all night, regardless of efforts to smudge or sweat it off. My crowning glory of curls I left down in the back, allowing it to fall as it may, as he'd told me he liked my curly hair over the straightened look, but I'd put the sides and bangs up in subdued, heavy-duty pins to keep them out of my face (the rose was placed between one of the pins). The whole thing was charmed and potioned within an inch of perfection to avoid frizz.

Gin came up behind me and spritzed a lovely, light jasmine-oriental spice perfume about me (not too heavy), and finished me off by wrapping the coordinated Pashmina scarf about my shoulders. She kissed my cheek. "You're positively gorgeous! He'll fall in love the moment he sees you, and will get on his knees to apologize for being an arse."

I blushed. Was I that patently manifest in my growing feelings for Draco? "Do you really think we're a good match?" I hesitantly asked, still unsure how my friends felt about this strange relationship.

My redheaded friend blew a stray hair out of her eyes and grinned at me. "'Mione, I've never seen you go to this kind of effort for any man _ever_. You didn't even go to these lengths for Viktor at the Yule Ball, although it's a bloody close race there." She gave me a narrow-eyed, contemplative look. "I think you've been head over heels for Malfoy since he shagged you but good in May, and I think he's been the same for you. Otherwise, why keep working so hard to look good for each other? And, honest to Jim, you two make a pretty couple. He's all tall and light and you're short and dark." She shook her head and laughed as I elbowed her in the arm and gave her a wry moue. "Hey, it works, so why argue the obvious?"

"Serious, Gin, what do you think about me and Draco?"

Her mischievous joking melted away in an instant. "'Mione, you know Ron will never accept this. He's still mad for you, even if he is a wanker who can't get his shite on straight and says the stupidest things. Harry? I think he's already grudgingly accepted it, since he and Draco have a cats-passing-in-the-night sort of tolerance of each other. Everyone else?" She looked grim. "I think you're just going to have to do what you advised me about Blaise: determine if what you feel for Malfoy is worth whatever price you need to pay. And keep in mind that your real friends will accept your decision and stand by you. Eventually, the gossip will go away."

I took a deep breath, considered what she said and nodded, letting the air out slowly. "I'll just have to feel it out tonight. Wish me luck!"

"Luck!" she called after me as I grabbed the Portkey Malfoy had arranged for me in advance and owl'd over this morning (a kerchief-sized square of intricately crocheted lace, looking to be rather expensive and possibly antique), counting down the seconds until it activated. In that time, I made sure I had everything I needed one more time – beaded bag with Undetectable Extension Charm placed upon it, wand, wizarding and Muggle money, Muggle identification and passport (just in case), a book to read (again, just in case), and writing implements should there be need.

Just as I mentally noted the last object, the Portkey activated and I was off to Rome.

**X~~~X**

_**Tête-à-tête Restaurant  
Rome, Italy  
October 17, 2003 – Friday Night (seconds later) **_

I arrived on the back patio of a garden and immediately stumbled. Thankfully, Malfoy caught me. "All right there, Granger?" he drawled with some amusement in my ear.

I huffed, straightened and tried not to feel overly embarrassed. After all, Portkey was a rather violent way to travel and I was in heels. "I've traveled worse ways," I snarked back with a grin. "Overall, a nice flight, though."

My handsomely decked-out date chuckled. "I'll bet."

I wasn't sure if that answer was in response to the first part of my commentary or the second. I let it slide though. Glancing about, I took in the cozy, romantic atmosphere of an open patio, with curtains on three sides that looked out on a well-manicured back garden. A table set for two, complete with candles and flowers, and china and utensils that looked more antique and expensive than anything my grandmother could boast (hers hailed back to the early Victorian Era). "I thought we were going to a restaurant?" I inquired. There were no other patrons or tables about. The setting looked like someone's private bed and breakfast.

Malfoy led me by the elbow to a seat, held it out for me and tucked me in. As he moved around to his side, he explained. "_Tête-à-tête _is an exclusive restaurant-villa designed to accommodate only a single couple per night. It takes reservations a year in advance, usually."

I blinked. "But you only had four days to book this place." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Dare I ask?"

Draco sat back in his chair and appraised me. I could see approval in his eyes. "You look lovely, Hermione. That dress is stunning."

I blushed and was about to challenge him for the distraction when our own private _maitre d' _walked up and began talking about the meal we would be enjoying tonight, as well as the wines specifically paired with each course. When he went away to bring us our starter, I quickly trained my attention back on my companion. "We really have this whole place to ourselves?"

Malfoy nodded. "Just you and me, Granger."

I wasn't sure why I said what I did next, but I know it changed the tone of the evening pretty quickly. "I rather liked it when you called me by my first name that one time."

It was understood by both of us that I was speaking of that fateful night at his suite last month. The memory of hearing his lust-filled tone calling for me had everything in my body tightening in an instant, and I could see from the way Draco's jaw clenched, his nostrils flared and the burning in his gaze that he was remembering that exact moment, too.

Our unspoken exchange was interrupted by the return of the _maitre d' _with our starter course. Wine was poured, we shared the food, and after he apologized for acting so atrociously the prior weekend, conversation between us flowed easily. We talked of our work, and I finally came to understand what it was Draco Malfoy actually did to earn him such a fantastic body.

"I'm a Curse-Breaking consultant for Gringotts. Over the last two years, underwater detection has been my specialty," he explained.

My jaw nearly hit the floor. "You swim?"

He smirked as he took a bite of the prosciutto, tomato and mozzarella appetizer. "And run to keep in shape. Bubble-head Charm or not, most wizards like the water - or did you forget the second task during the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

Actually, I hadn't, especially since I'd been the bait for Viktor. I looked down into my wine glass, swirling the contents, trying to ignore the rioting in my belly when he'd used my first name again. "No wonder you're so fit, but have soft hands."

He took a healthy swig of his wine, finishing it off, licked his lips and gave me a most lascivious leer. "Soft hands for soft parts."

I could feel the alcohol coupling with my desire heating my cheeks up nice and cherry. "Tell me more about some of the dives you've been on." It was a good distraction.

We spent the rest of the long meal conversing on a variety of topics: from Curse-Breaking to Dark Curses, from cures for such spells to Potions, from apothecary ingredients to tea-leaf reading. We flowed naturally from subject and subject, never bored, challenging each other with opinions and facts. I found Draco Malfoy to be charming, witty, and scarily intelligent. If we'd both stayed in school and the war had never happened, I'm not sure which of us would have ended up Valedictorian, honestly. He was knowledgeable on a variety of topics, not the least of which was sex I realized as I thought about how experienced he seemed.

As we shared dessert – a heart-shaped, mini angel food cake, filled in the middle with fresh strawberries and raspberries and heavy cream, dusted with icing sugar and drizzled with strawberry-raspberry sauce – and tipped back our espressos, I felt comfortable enough to ask the big question that had been burning in the back of my head for months now. "Draco, there's something important I need to ask you. It's personal, but… well, I suppose it's just better to get it right out there, so here goes: are you married, affianced, or sexually involved with someone else?"

He started and his spoon paused half-way to his mouth.

"It's just, well, we've never really talked about ourselves… our lives outside… until tonight," I stammered now, wondering if I'd let the alcohol go to my head and mouth, and would later regret this discussion. I glanced up at him through my lashes, my heart pounding in my chest with anxiety, waiting for his answer. I knew I'd be terribly heartbroken if he said there was someone else, and yet, I just couldn't let this sort of thing lie any longer. We'd changed something in our relationship last month, and it had made me recognize just how much I'd let slide to avoid this important confrontation.

He sipped his coffee and stared at me. "If there was?"

My stomach plummeted, but I hardened my resolve. "I think the whole world knows from what that rotten Skeeter wrote in the society pages earlier this year that I've been on the other end of an affair once. I wouldn't want to hurt another woman or myself like that. I-It wouldn't be fair to go any further with… _this_… if there was someone else in the picture."

He was quiet a moment longer, watching me as I forked a strawberry and brought it to my mouth to nibble. It was hard to meet his eye, but I forced myself not to look away. He needed to understand that no matter how much the sub I was in our playtime, this was one thing on which I would not back down.

"Define for me what you mean by 'this,'" he finally said, putting his small demitasse cup on its matching saucer, wiping his mouth politely and sitting back in his chair, his full attention upon me.

Oh, Merlin, I'd stepped in it again, hadn't I? I was assuming that this date meant something more than…

_"You're not my girlfriend, Granger." _

He'd summed up our relationship already with those five words, hadn't he? We were fuck-buddies, _sans _the buddy part. I wouldn't doubt that this date was probably meant to get me back into his good graces after his treatment of me so we could continue down the road of no-strings-attached debauchery.

I put my fork down, took a sip from my water glass to wet my drying mouth, dabbed my lips and politely folded and set the napkin down next to my plate to convey I was through with the meal. "Perhaps I misunderstood," I gave the polite, very-British allowance. "I thought that after what happened between us last month and then coming here tonight-" My voice gave on that last word and I had to look away, feeling suddenly very vulnerable and very stupid. I looked out over the back garden, trying not to give in to tears. "Was coming here just a way to get back into bed with me or another role-play in a different venue for you? Or, are you interested in dating me outside of the club? Have I misconstrued your intentions entirely? Please tell me the truth before I humiliate myself further."

He stood up, his chair legs scraping against the patio concrete, and walked towards one of the curtained exits to look out in the same direction as I was, one hand shoved in the pocket of his expensive-looking and nicely-tailored trousers. The other hand ran through his hair, stopping on the back of his neck. He sighed heavily.

"I want you," he resignedly admitted. "More than I've ever wanted another witch, Granger. What we've been doing… it's mad, I know." He rubbed the hand on his neck around over his face. "From the moment I first touched you, I _knew _you would get to me somehow. You always had the knack – even back in school. I couldn't think of you then without my blood boiling, but now it's for an entirely different reason." He shoved his free hand into the empty pocket of his slacks and leaned against the nearby pillar, his features set to give nothing of his internal emotions away. "No, I'm not committed to anyone right now, but I have been casually seeing two other witches besides you - nothing exclusive."

I couldn't breathe for the anger and despair that roared through my body. Every limb quaked with it, voices screamed in my head, taunting, "told you so!" and "should have expected this!" I'd made a very critical error in judgment and ended up just another one of his alternate bed partners, rather than someone special, as I'd naïvely fantasized.

_Dummy, dummy, double-super dummy! _

The crux of it all was I couldn't even entirely blame him. I'd never bothered to ask him about other women, or to establish parameters for our bloody _tête-à-têtes _– whatever you wanted to call them. At twenty-three, why shouldn't he be out playing the field? Isn't that what most men this age did? He was handsome, wealthy, stylish, had a solid career with a reputable company, knew how to make 'dirty talk' intensely evocative, and was hung like a prize-winning stallion with the stamina and talent to match. He was an overall good catch that could have his pick of any woman.

I retrieved my bag from the back of the chair and silently _Accio'd_ my wand from its black, gaping opening. Standing on shaky legs, I tried to act nonetheless with some decorum and grace in the face of such merciless disenchantment. I didn't want to be remembered for another screaming match at the end of a relationship. Been there, done that, and it wasn't pretty. "Thank you for telling me the truth," I shielded my temper and emotions the best I could, but I could still feel the tears threatening, despite my best efforts. "It couldn't have been easy to admit that. But Draco, I hope you'll understand me when I say I can't hang around hoping you'll someday decide to pick me over the others. It isn't fair and quite honestly, after last month… What we've done together these past few months has been wonderful, but… I think it's best we call it here and go our separate ways before one of us gets really hurt."

I didn't mention that the 'one of us' in question was me, and that I was already pretty bloody hurt. That seemed rather obvious.

I raised my wand to Apparate away, but moving swiftly he clamped down on my wrist and prevented my jump at the last moment. "Don't say that," he rebuked. "It isn't that simple, Hermione. I was seeing them before you ever came into the picture, and you and me… it's difficult because of who we both are and our pasts. You _know _that." He sighed with frustrated disappointment. "Please, don't go. We can talk about this."

Turning away to hide the tears that slipped from their prison, I tried to yank my arm out of his hold. "No, I don't think we can, Draco. I'm getting in too deep with you and its clear you don't want commitment at this time, especially not with me. If I don't let go now-" I swallowed the lump of emotion in my throat, working quick mental triage on my heart to keep it from a messy break, reminding myself that I'd survived Ron's infidelity, so I knew I could endure this, too. "I'm going to move on and keep looking. Maybe there's a wizard or Muggle man out there for me who will want the same thing I do."

"No, you're _mine_," he admonished with sudden fervor. He pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms about me, holding me close, breathing hard against my throat with an incensed passion.

"If that's the case, will you date only me then?" I asked, foolishly daring to hope. I let a solid minute slide by as he considered the option, but when he didn't reply, I knew that meant he wasn't going to offer me such a promise. "Right, I didn't think so," I huffed in partial ire, partial acceptance, and pushed on his chest to get him to release me.

His embrace resisted my attempts. "I didn't expect this to happen, Granger," he murmured, pressing his cheek to mine, tightening his hug. "I wasn't looking for a girlfriend when we started all of this. You said you wanted a Dom to fulfill a temporary fantasy you had of playing the sexual sub. You didn't specify any criteria on the man aside from that, or a time limit on the relationship, so I assumed that meant you weren't looking for a relationship either, just some casual, consensual fun." He leaned back and unnervingly looked me in the eye, refusing to let me off the hook for my part in our controversial affair. "How was I to know that your feelings on the matter had changed over the last five months? Slytherin's rod, Hermione, you never indicated you wanted anything more from me but temporary thrills until tonight!" He shook me once to get me to stop squirming against him. "Did you expect me to just cut all ties and hang around for the last half a year waiting for you to make up your mind about me, too? How fair is that? What would have happened if you'd decided I wasn't the bloke for you? Would I have gotten the 'too bad, so sad' talk?"

He was right, of course. I'd never indicated one way or the other that I wanted him as anything but a shag-partner. Well, until a few weeks ago, that was to say. I'd thought my feelings for him had been broadcast in high-frequency by my touches during our love making that night at his flat. Apparently, I was wrong.

"Last month I all but shouted the roof down with my feelings for you each time we-" I clamped my lips together and stopped that thought from finding voice before I dared to make the suggestion that what we'd done then had been anything more than just sex. I now understood that accusing us of making love, rather than simply fucking would be ridiculous. "Well, now you know that I'm sincere about us trying to make it as a couple, but you're _still _unwilling to go exclusive, aren't you?" I countered, shoving hard enough to break free. Immediately, I took several steps back, bumping into my chair. I gripped the wooden back for support, my heart hammering so hard in my chest that my ears were beginning to ring.

He ran a hand through his pale hair, and I could see him restraining his irritation. "Have you seriously thought this through, Granger? I have and… for fuck's sake, there's so much…" He stumbled over words, seeming to have a hard time capturing what he wanted to say. Finally, he just snapped. "You can't expect me to change my life to suit your switch in mood!"

I reeled like I'd been slapped across the face. In one simple sentence, he'd just reduced my fragile, newly blossoming love for him to little more than a fickle bout of temper, and made it clear that I wasn't worth the effort of monogamy. "No, I don't suppose I can," I detachedly heard the words come from my mouth in an even tone. "Thank you for illuminating your decision for me, though, Draco. At least now we both know where we stand and can walk away with from this… arrangement… with the proper closure."

With that, I raised my wand and Disapparated home.

**X~~~X**

_**Hermione Granger's Flat  
Camden, London, England  
October 17-20, 2003 – Friday Night (seconds later) to Monday Morning**_

After stripping off my dress and jewels and owl-ing them back to Gin's relative's shop with a cordial thank you note attached, I spent the rest of the weekend reveling in my misery, eating up all of the ice cream in the house, refusing to shower or get out of my pajamas, and watching sappy love movies on my DVD player, crying my eyes out. I turned away every incoming owl or Floo call and didn't answer my telephone or door. I didn't want to talk to _anyone_. I mourned my loss with a distinct lack of moderation or refinement, and on Monday morning, I went to work with puffy, tired eyes and sand between my ears.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S EXTENDED NOTES:**_

**Tête-à-tête Restaurant in Rome really exists and is described exactly how it looks and operates.**

**Icing sugar = Known as "powdered sugar" in America.**


	9. Chapter 9

_**CHAPTER NINE**_

**The Ministry of Magic**  
**London, England**  
**October 20, 2003 – Monday Mid-Morning**

A rather determined interoffice memo scooted itself under my office door with stubborn insistence. It had been knocking against the window casing above for the last half-hour, but I'd ignored it, burying myself in the draft I was writing up to submit for legal to consider. The note had finally decided to take matters into its own hands so it could fulfill its duty and scrunched itself under the narrow opening between the door and the tile flooring.

I watched it land on the desk right in front of me, shudder, and go still, recognizing the colored paper and knowing who had sent the note and why. With a sigh, I opened it and read.

_**Right, what did that wanker do to get my best friend to hide away all weekend? Is it time for the healing power of ice cream? **_

Bless Ginny's nosey, little bum. I loved that witch for knowing just exactly what I needed at the moment: female solidarity. Misery does love company, after all.

I scratched a line through her note and wrote my reply underneath:

_**I would give my left kneecap for some 'pink and white' right about now. **_

With a tap and wave of my wand, reciting the spell to reanimate the memo, I sent it on its way. Twenty minutes later, Ginny let herself into my office, bespelled the door for complete privacy and dropped a familiar white paper bag in front of me. "Fortescue's Take-Away" and "Encouraging your misbehaving cravings since 1899!" was stamped tastefully on the front, leaving no doubt as to its contents. Rummaging inside, I found my favorite: Strawberry-Vanilla Swirl.

"_You _are Godric's greatest blessing!" I profoundly appreciated my best friend with my most dazzlingly white smile.

Gin helped herself to the seat across from me, put her booted feet up on the corner of my desk, leaned back in the chair and grinned at me like the Cheshire Cat. "I know. I'll take the knee off later, by the way. We'll use a splicing spell and a level so it won't hurt a bit. For now, though - spill."

So, I told her everything – even that I'd started to fall in love with the prat – as I dug into the pint of ice cream with the provided spoon. By the time I was done talking, half the container was gone, Gin's feet were back on the floor where they belonged, and she was gripping the arms of her chair with anger, a scowl set upon her features. "That _dog! _" she snapped. "You told him you seriously liked him enough to date, and he had the audacity to shoot you down like that?" Her upper lip curled. "No good bastard! Forget him. You can do better, 'Mione."

Do you know how much I adore Ginevra Weasley for her steadfast loyalty? She is, without a doubt, the best friend a girl could ever have.

We talked a little longer while I finished off the mid-afternoon treat. My friend left to return to her desk an hour later with promises to take me to a different club this weekend to help me forget my sorrows, and thirty minutes later, I felt positively ill from a combination of consuming too much sugar all at once and tearing open the 'Malfoy wound' I'd spent all weekend nursing closed. I asked my boss to be dismissed for the day, citing illness, and was granted the reprieve.

You know what? I didn't feel an ounce of guilt over taking that mental health day, because the truth was, I _definitely _needed the hot, lavender scented bath I hopped into as soon as I got home, and later the Chinese take-away I ordered from my favorite Muggle restaurant for lunch (once my tummy had settled down, that was). I enjoyed Jane Austen with my four o'clock tea, and that night, I gave myself a fantastic orgasm with one of my favorite vibrating toys. I slept like a baby for the first time in a month. It seemed that switching my regular daily grind for just twenty-four hours had worked miracles on my self-esteem.

By the following morning, I'd sent Gin a note telling her I was looking forward to trying a new club this upcoming weekend, and this time, I was going as me, Hermione Jean Granger - _not_ Miss Submissive.

* * *

_**  
**__**TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**CHAPTER TEN**_

**The Mass Nightclub**  
**London, England**  
**October 25, 2003 – Saturday Evening (Special Event: Samhain Costume Party)**

The building that the club Ginny took me to was a converted church located in the Peace Gardens of Brixton. It was a two-story riot of noise, each tier operating independently with its own dance floor and lighting, bar and musical selections to entertain the several hundred party-goers that had packed in for the night for some fun. We paid our entrance fee and I strolled in as if I'd been there before, not wanting to look like a tourist.

I passed by people decked out in a variety of fun, sometimes even naughty trappings. There were grotesque zombies, lusty vampires, sexy kitties, mad doctors and evil nurses, hockey masked psychos, toked-out hippies, sparkly fairies, and I even passed by a guy decked out as a full-on furry – a tiger. Of course, pirates were _everywhere_, as Captain Jack and his bottle of rum had been a smash at the cinema this past summer.

Gin was the only one I could see dressed as an _Alice In Wonderland _character. Her outfit had been rented for the night, like mine, from a professional Muggle costume shop, and was made of quality fabrics. Masquerading as a female mad hatter (albeit, a slaggy version), she looked stunning in an aqua blue satin mini skirt, white satin top with aqua blue satin bow, with a matching dark aqua velvet halter-corset. Her thigh-highs were held up with garters that attached to the corset, and were topped with matching bows. The aqua-black top hat was perched jauntily to the side, and she'd curled her auburn hair tonight to give it bounce. The dark aqua glittery heels with the velvet bow at the toe were the final touch to a perfect costume.

I'd opted for a rather slinky version of Red Riding Hood. Flowing white cotton top that showed off a lot of cleavage was tightly cinched in a black leather corset that tied up the middle with a black, satin ribbon. The two-paneled, crimson red shirt was edged with black trim and fluffed out by black crinoline. A matching red mini hood tied around my throat, and I kept the hood up. I completed the look with black lace thigh-highs and adorable pair of strappy black heels. I didn't see anyone else who matched my costume theme either in the throng of writhing, colorful forms.

The bottom level was playing heavy-thumping trance and remixed dance favorites that were currently popular on Muggle radio. We wound our way through the sardine crowd, me holding onto Gin's hand as she led us in deeper, heading for the stairs. We climbed to the second floor to find a live band playing classic Muggle rock hits from The Rolling Stones, The Who, and others that I didn't recognize, but my parents would probably enjoy.

Ginny gave me a look asking which floor I preferred and I shrugged, not really concerned. We stayed on the top level, and headed for the bar. Two beers, four turn-aways by men asking me for a dance in whining, pleading (sometimes even drunken) voices, and a dozen or songs later, the live band wrapped it up, and the music changed to remixed 80's and 90's Muggle tunes, spun by a master DJ. Gin and I decided to go downstairs and see if there was better action to be had there.

We hit the dance floor for some let-loose fun and danced to songs I'd never even heard of before. Very quickly, we had a slew of men dancing about us. One bloke smelling heavy of ciggy-breath and dressed as a member of the RAF tried to get a little friendly with my arse, and I quickly disabused him of the notion by intentionally picking the guy next to me to dance with. Late twenties, tall with dark eyes and hair, dressed in doctor scrubs (complete with stethoscope), he gave me a melting smile and played along. With that decision made, the other single men turned to Ginny to see which she would choose to focus on.

I was shocked to see Blaise, dressed as some American Riverboat gambler (complete with slick, suede hat) suddenly appear at the edge of the ring of men. He was staring daggers at Gin, who gazed back at him with shocked annoyance at the same time.

Instantly, my heart froze up. Would Malfoy be here, too?

"A'right?" my dance partner yelled into my ear to be heard over the music.

I turned to him and nodded, and we continued to move to the beat – not touching, but standing close enough to (not that there was any choice on personal space, given how packed-in we all were). I kept my peripherals on Gin, though, just in case, instinctively knowing her situation was about to blow our entire night of fun sky-high.

I should get an award for being right all the time.

In a very calculated move, Blaise made an opening and quickly slithered between Ginny and the guy she'd been dancing with, inserting himself as her new partner. Gin stuck her tongue out at him in annoyance (he _was _gatecrashing 'girls' night out'), and made to move away. Zabini reached to grab her hand and dodging, she stepped back with some measure of force, clipping my right side, knocking me completely off-balance. I teetered on my heels and started to fall. One of the men in the crowd quickly came to my rescue and caught me, his arms going about my waist to hold me up, mine automatically flying to his costume's leather-clad shoulders for purchase.

As I looked up into the face of my would-be rescuer to thank him, I found myself nose-to-nose with Malfoy – and he looked rather cross with me for dancing with other men.

Holy Circe's tit.

Without thought to the ramifications, I got my feet under me, reeled back and slapped him hard enough to turn his head so he'd let go.

Yes, in retrospect, I can admit that I reacted poorly to the situation, but in my defense, he'd startled me and quite frankly, I was mad at him for a variety of reasons - not the least of which was for chasing away my chance to meet another man.

I had two seconds to congratulate myself on getting one up over him before I was dragged by the wrist off the dance floor, through the crowd and out the emergency door in the back of the club, setting off an alarm. We ended up in an alley. Before I could demand my ex-lover let me go and before security could arrive on-scene, he had an arm about my waist and his wand in his hand. We Disapparated in a crack of thunder and a nauseating collage of light flashing before my eyes.

**X~~~X  
**

**Malfoy's Private Penthouse Suite  
Hyde Park, London, England  
October 25, 2003 – Saturday Night (seconds later) **

He let me go the moment we landed and I stumbled, off-balance, nearly twisting my ankle. I let out an undignified, "owww!" as I caught myself on the back of a cozy chair and looked up to find my captor's wand in my face. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" I growled, peeved beyond measure.

"I rather thought the kidnapping part was obvious, Granger," he bit, his tone bordering on an outburst of temper. Clearly, he was incensed; the leather of his renaissance jerkin (was that thing authentic? It sure looked it) creaked with each of his rapidly indrawn breaths.

What right did he have to be angry?

I rolled my eyes and fearlessly put my fingertip on the end of his wand, pushing it out of my face. "And may I ask why you felt kidnapping me was a healthy endeavor for you to pursue?"

He looked downright incredulous at that. "Smartest witch of our age, my arse," he snarked. "In case you missed the memo, I don't share well with others, and as I've already stated once, you're _mine_, sweet thing."

Of all the sheer arrogance! "Pardon me, but it seems my hearing is going with age. I pray for your sake that you hadn't just had the audacity to say to me that I _belonged_ to the likes of a tomcat like _you_, Malfoy, because I can assure you: that would be tantamount to you being hexed six ways from Sunday."

A perfectly arched, dark gold eyebrow rose in challenge. "Well, then you can sigh with relief, my princess. It seems your age hasn't yet dulled your senses, your hearing most especially." His wand tip moved back into my face, pressing lightly against my bottom lip. "As for who is going to be doing some hexing around here… let's just say you're lucky I didn't curse 'Doctor Hands' with a face full of sphincter openings."

That visual alone was enough to give me bad dreams tonight. "Eww. Could you please not be quite so graphic in any future imagined depravity?" I requested, handling this whole thing rather well, I thought. "And _do _be serious, Malfoy. You've ruined my good time, and I spent a small fortune renting this costume specifically for tonight's club event. So, just tell me what you want, so I can get back to it without further delay."

He stepped forward, violently jerked my beaded bag out of my hand and tossed it away. Then, he threw his wand in the opposite direction. Both of us unarmed, he stepped into my private space and pulled me against him. "Oh, you're going to be delayed all right…"

I turned my head just as he swooped down to capture my lips and instead he met my cheek. Undeterred, he moved in to suckle on my neck, just above my pulse. Have I mentioned how talented Draco's mouth really is? He knows how to use lips, teeth and tongue in conjunction to devastating result. Tonight, he was particularly adept, utilizing all his skills to seduce me.

The only thing going through my mind in that moment, however, was the question of where his two play-witches were partying tonight? Had they blown him off, so he came looking for former alternative number three? "Let me guess: your other escorts were too busy for a hook-up?" I bitterly murmured in his ear.

He bit down a bit hard on my throat in punishment, and I knew there would be a teeth imprint there later. "Don't," he warned in my ear.

I pushed against him, trying to get away, but again, he refused to let me go. Now I was becoming rather angry. I lashed out. "Don't what, Draco? Wonder why you're sexually assaulting me after I made it clear I wasn't interested in being a whore in your rotation?"

He abruptly let me go and this time, I did fall on my backside. Thank Merlin for thick, plush carpet, for the fall wasn't quite so hard. Still, it jarred and my tailbone was probably going to be bruised.

Draco stared down at me with fury and disgust, and opened his mouth to say something I knew would be ruinous to us both. I cut him off with my own chastisement before he could utter a sound. "_You_ don't!" I shouted, furious. "Don't you _dare _say another hurtful thing to me - not after throwing my feelings in my face the way you did! Not after bringing me here and making love to me a month ago, and then turning around and telling me that I was no different to you than your other shags-on-the-side!" I shut my eyes, mortified, wishing with all my might that I had my wand so I could just go home and forget this night had ever happened. "Just leave off, Malfoy. Our… whatever it was… it's over. You got what you wanted out of me – a distraction for a while, and the chance to brag to your friends that you actually got the 'stupid Mudblood' to fall for you. Whatever. Congratulations. Now bugger off and let me get on with my life without you."

I was so wrapped up in my own misery and chastisement of him, I hadn't recognized he'd stripped off his leather jerkin and padded, cotton shirt until he was suddenly at my level and pushing me back into the carpet, his chest pale and tempting. I tried to roll away, but his weight effortlessly pinned me, and he firmly took hold of my wrists and restrained them above my head to keep me from lashing out. "Get off!" I snarled, wiggling to get free.

Readjusting his hold on my wrists, he freed one of his hands and untied the black satin ribbon holding my leather corset in place. He pulled it out an eyelet at a time as he talked to me. "We aren't over, Granger," he promised, his lips kissing over my revealed cleavage as he worked. "Not by a long shot."

I hissed. "Stop this instant, Malfoy - I'm serious!"

Yanking the leather aside, pulling the cotton shirt down, he found me braless. "So am I," he asserted and bent his head, taking my nipple into his mouth, sucking deep. My efforts to get away doubled, but he simply pulled the other side of my half-shift down and licked over that breast, too. Alternating between them, he had them sore and taut in moments.

I turned my head to try to distract my mounting lust and could see into the bedroom from this vantage point. Absently, I noted that the bed linen was the same as I remembered… Would it be so for the other women in his life? Had he brought any of them here, too, and made love to them with that same intense, beautiful passion?

"Please, don't," I voiced another desperate plea, my tone tinged with sorrow. It was amazing how this wizard unmade me so easily, unraveling my whole world with his hot-and-cold nature. But I didn't want to cave and end up as _that _girl – the one who accepted coming in second best to some other woman because I craved a man beyond all reason and good judgment. I still had my pride, if no longer my full dignity. "Draco, stop."

He lifted his platinum head, observed the resolve in my eyes, and without a word, moved to kiss me full on the lips, trying to continue his game of distraction. His tongue slipped between mine, coaxing, desperate for my obedience, but I withheld my compliance. I wasn't a sub anymore. I'd enjoyed playing the part, knew I would incorporate it as a component in my sexual repertoire in the future, but Ginny was right: for me, it had always been just role-play and a way for me to prove Ron's accusations wrong. I'd been successful in giving up all control with Draco, taking on the stereotypical role of my gender in the bedroom as the sexually submissive. But that wasn't who I was deep inside or what I wanted long-term. In my romantic life, I wanted an equal partner.

I felt his understanding as he pulled his mouth away, resting his face in the crook of my shoulder. He sighed with defeat. "You've switched on me, like you said you would."

I nodded, swallowing back the hollow ache, unable to speak.

With tremendous strength, he got his knees under him, and pulled us both up. I straddled his lap, my skirt rising high up my waist, his magnificent arousal pressing into the center of me, reminding me of what I was giving up. He kept his face hidden in my neck as he held me tightly to him. "I… have to let you go, don't I?"

My tears burned us both as I turned my nose into his hairline and wept. The truth was I didn't want him to say goodbye. I wanted him to love me. But he wasn't ready, and I wasn't sure he ever would be. And, to be fair, I couldn't let myself hang about waiting for him to figure it out, playing second or even third fiddle in his affections all the while, as that would turn me into someone I wouldn't like. Besides, I still believed the old adage that if it's real, there are no doubts. That he hesitated on committing to me told me enough.

"Yes," I miserably whispered, answering his question. "You do."

Very slowly, he opened his arms and on trembling knees, I stood up. He didn't look at me as I moved past him to gather my beaded bag from the carpet, nor as I extricated my wand and held it aloft, preparing to Disapparate back to the club (I had to go back for Gin, to make sure she was all right, but then, I was going home).

"Thank you." I righted my clothing, hesitating to leave. Just a moment more… I wanted to say this. I _had _to, even if his back was still to me, and he was still kneeling on the floor, his booted feet tucked up under him, and I couldn't see his beautiful face. "I loved every moment we shared. I'll keep it all with me, every bit in my heart, for always."

He didn't reply. He didn't so much as twitch.

"Goodbye, Draco."

The spell took me in its arms and directed me away with a crack and a flash.

It was over.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S EXTENDED NOTES:**_

**No, that's NOT the end of this story. Next update in a couple of days. The saga of Dramione is far from over... **

**T****he Mass Nightclub really exists in London and is described exactly how it looks.**


	11. Chapter 11

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN**_

**The Ministry of Magic**  
**London, England**  
**November 3, 2003 – Monday Afternoon**

"Wow, you look healthy!" Gin appreciated my glowing tan with some measure of surprise. "Australia was good to you, then?"

I hummed and nodded, flashing through some of my favorite parts of the trip in my mind again. "It was amazing fun!"

After the weekend I'd had after my confrontation with Draco, I'd decided last Monday on the spur of the moment to take the entire week off of work and travel. I wanted out of England – as far away from the source of my hurt as possible. I ended up in Melbourne, Australia, borrowing the second home my mum and dad had decided to purchase there after the war for their annual holidays. Apparition had its merits, allowing me to completely by-pass airports, customs, and a very long flight. I spent the first day adjusting to the eleven hour time difference and orienting myself. By Tuesday, I'd hit the beach (November was the beginning of summer in the land down under) and later that night, trolled the local restaurant and bar scene. On Wednesday, I met a nice American Muggle named Daniel while sunbathing, and we spontaneously decided to spend the next three days doing the tourist thing together. We talked, laughed and had a marvelous time. The night before I was to come home - Saturday, he introduced me to the bed in his hotel room. We had wild monkey sex all over the room and it didn't involve domination or submission, but an equal desire for fulfillment (it was definitely within the 'rebound' territory, though, and I recognized it as such). I enjoyed a couple of nice orgasms that didn't leave my heart tangled up in concerns about my worth or what tomorrow would bring, and overall, it had been a gloriously freeing experience. At least, it made me realize that there was a chance for me to find happiness again someday.

Gin flashed me a good-natured leer. "So, does Amazing Fun have a name, then?"

I threw her a mysterious smile, and kept my lips clamped tightly shut. Picking up a file from my desk that needed delivering to the Auror Office (a joint-case involving dark magic rituals performed by murdering dragons for their teeth), I made my way past my BFF and out the door. I got to the Aurors' main entrance when Gin all but tackled me to the floor. "So, there _was _a man! What was his name? Was he a Muggle or a wizard? Are you going to see him again?"

I shushed her, not wanting the gossips around this place to get a hold of the details of my triumphant holiday. "Daniel Travers, a Muggle, and I'm not sure. He's an American, but he has a lot of business with both the British and Australian Muggle governments. He said he'd be back in London in a couple of weeks for a few days, though, and he did ask me in advance to have dinner with him."

Ginny was practically bouncing with happiness for me. "Well, are you going to meet him?"

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't know, honestly. He was nice and we had some in common when we talked, but…" I wasn't sure I wanted to commit to anything with Daniel. He was a good man, but I was still hung-up on Draco, despite everything. It would take time to sort that out.

My best friend pinched my arm and I yelped, rubbing it and making a face at her in disapproval. "Don't let what happened with Malfoy ruin this chance for you, 'Mione. If Daniel's a good match, you should go for it, Muggle or not."

I sighed, hugging the file folder to my chest. "I'll think about it," I noncommittally replied. That was the safe route, since I didn't even know if Daniel was going to call on me again – or if I wanted him to. It was a fabulous time, but I got the impression that it was one of those holiday flings that tries to push the boundaries of fantasy into real life. And how would it work between us, exactly, if we did pursue something? He lived in Washington D.C., and I didn't think I wanted to move State-side and give up my career at the Ministry to do so.

I rounded the doorway and entered the Aurors Office, handing the file over to Demhelza, the Department Secretary. "Please make sure the Auror in charge of cult activities gets this." She took it from me with a, 'can do,' smile, and focused her attention on someone behind me, even as I stepped back and began to turn towards my office.

"Auror Potter will be right with you, Mr. Malfoy. Please have a seat."

I stopped on a knut.

Draco was leaning against the wall behind the partially inwardly-swung door. Clearly, he'd heard everything Ginny and I said just on the other side of the wall because his eyes were storm clouds of disapproval as he unblinkingly stared at me.

He had no room to cast any form of aspersion however, because next to him, holding onto his hand in the manner of the insecure possessive, was the model-gorgeous Astoria Greengrass. I remembered her briefly from school, and she immediately recognized me as a rival, spitefully sneering at me and pressing her body suggestively closer to Malfoy's long frame to make her point that he was her property now. My eyes strayed to the waspish brunette, down to where she'd intimately linked hands with her bed partner, and then back to his face, ignoring her otherwise.

Nothing needed to be said. It was clear how both my former lover and I felt by the tightening around our mouths.

Jealousy really was an ugly expression all around, wasn't it?

Stepping away before I could open my mouth and tell Greengrass that it was clear that Malfoy would never love her either, I walked out the door and back to my office, shoulders straight and chin up, heart slamming an aching, taunting rhythm in my chest that didn't go away the rest of the day. Ginny scrambled to catch up to my quick stride, cooing compassionate, encouraging words along the way to try to soothe my temper, reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn't care, asking me more questions about Daniel. She was the perfect best girl friend then, supporting me, trying to rally my interest elsewhere, but no matter her best, most loyal efforts, my earlier good mood had been irreversibly soured. She left to return to her office when that became much too evident through my clipped tone.

After she'd gone, I spelled the lock on my door and put my head down on my desk. Bloody _buggering _hell, wild monkey sex with a hot American in a hotel overlooking the beach in Australia definitely hadn't cured me of my seriously ill-advised affliction for one damnably wicked British aristocrat, had it? No, sir, not in the least.

I banged my forehead and then swore because I'd hit too hard.

_Dummy, dummy, triple-scoop-on-top dummy! _

Right, then I'd just have to try harder to move on, it seemed.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**CHAPTER TWELVE**_

**Hermione Granger's Flat**  
**Camden, London, England**  
**November 15, 2003 – Saturday Afternoon**

I didn't receive a ticket by owl for tonight's Carnival of Naughty Fun – "Invidia," also known as "Envy" – nor any notes or roses delivered to my work or home. If there was anything that could have convinced me that it really was over between Draco and me then that was it. That was why I'd agreed to meet Daniel for dinner tonight at one of the most posh restaurants about: _Le Gavroche_. I decided to go for the interest before me (who had flown in on Thursday night for Friday business, and wouldn't be leaving until Monday morning), rather than pine away for the one behind.

I begged and pleaded with Ginny to take me back to her relative's Carlos Miele Salon, and we found a beautiful blue, flowing silk dress for the occasion (which fit with some magical adjustments), as well as a flashy pair of gold and bronze Jimmy Choo sandals with a small heel. The cut of the dress had a Greecian flair to it, so Gin magicked my curls into an elegant smooth free-flow (no frizz), pulling the bangs straight across from right to left and tucking them behind my ear, making me look like some ancient goddess from out of memory. My makeup was tastefully done, with a tiny artistic elegance – sultry blue, with a hint of bronze at the top, lips and cheeks painted lightly with a pinky-bronze. We went with minimal jewelry so as not to detract from the dress – gold and bronze hoops in my ears, no necklace, and a gold and bronze bangle on one wrist. Not bad for a last minute effort, I had to admit.

With my trusty beaded bag in hand (magicked to match the outfit, of course), and the same Pashmina scarf to cover up my shoulders, I Apparated a safe distance from the restaurant at the appointed time.

**X~~~X**

**Le Gavroche Restaurant  
London, England  
November 15, 2003 – Saturday Night**

Daniel was inside waiting for me, as we'd agreed. We were seated in a table for two near the back of restaurant, and ours was the only table with lit candles, I noted. Apparently, my date had gone all out for me and requested the special service in advance. My belly warmed at such consideration.

We enjoyed amicable conversation over a meal fit for Kings and Queens: langoustines glazed in a light hollandaise sauce, butter lettuce with Mimolette cheese and walnuts, roasted fillets of John Dory in a broth with fennel, mussels and a garlic crouton, white poached duck in a light consommé, hot passion fruit soufflé with white chocolate ice cream, and roasted pineapple with vanilla and rum served on a flattened plank of vanilla bean ice cream. It was an amazing dinner, and he was a fantastic man – engaging, well-mannered, and his work was genuinely interesting.

It was a perfect night, and when I invited him back to my flat, which was literally less than four miles from the restaurant, he readily agreed, a telling heat flaring in his eyes.

**X~~~X**

**Hermione Granger's Flat  
Camden, London, England  
November 15, 2003 – Saturday Night (approximately twenty minutes later) **

We took a taxi, Daniel paid as we got out in front of my building at Mornington Terrace, and before we even hit the door and the car had roared away, he was kissing me – right there on the walk out front of my home! His hot, lusty mouth and roaming hands spoke tomes about how much he loved my outfit and what he planned to do to me in a few minutes.

Right as I reached into my bag to get my key, I heard it: the crack of Disapparition. Instantly, everything in me froze up and I pulled out of Daniel's embrace to strain all of my senses in the direction I'd heard the spell performed. It had come from behind my building, up the drive. Nothing stirred from that direction, however.

Somehow, I just _knew_ it had been _him_. Malfoy had found out where I lived and been waiting for me to get home. Call it intuition, but I suddenly understood that he hadn't sent me a ticket for tonight's Festival because he'd planned to come to me in person instead. But he'd most likely seen me kissing Daniel and beat a hasty retreat.

My mouth was suddenly very dry. I swallowed and tasted only bitter regret on my tongue. Why had he come? There were so many possibilities: because he'd somehow heard Daniel was in town and he'd wanted to interfere, or because his other women weren't available and he was bored, or because he'd missed me, or because, because, _because…_

"Hey, you okay?" Daniel asked, his voice a gentle reminder in my ear that I was thinking of another man while I had one right here willing and able to service me quite well.

But suddenly, I wasn't sure I wanted that anymore.

No, I would not let my ex-lover ruin this for me. He'd had his chance, and he'd chosen Astoria Greengrass and gods knew who else over me. And I'd promised myself I wouldn't keep nursing this broken heart. I was going to take Daniel to my bed tonight, and we would date in whatever capacity we both decided upon, and I would forget all about Draco Malfoy.

I told myself that lie all night – even as my handsome American lover stripped me and had me in a variety of positions in my bed. I didn't come once, but I faked it rather well.

**X~~~X**

**Hermione Granger's Flat  
Camden, London, England  
November 16, 2003 – Sunday Morning**

I'd sent Daniel back to his hotel the next morning with the lie that I was obligated to visit my family on Sundays for church services. He'd admitted during our Australian whirlwind tour that he was a dyed-in-the-wool Atheist, so I knew the excuse would send him packing. I gave him a half-hearted kiss goodbye out on the front walk and watched as he drove away.

We both understood, even as the taxi took him and he looked back at me through the rear-view window with a sad smile and a small wave, that this was the end of our fling. Some things didn't need to be spoken to be understood, especially between two people who'd shared dessert.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

_**AUTHOR'S EXTENDED NOTES:**_

**Le Gavroche Restaurant in London really exists and is described exactly how it looks. The food sample is directly from their menu as well.**


	13. Chapter 13

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

If you've read this story previously at the **HERMIONE FANON SHIPS FEST LiveJournal** site, you'll note that the next few chapters (starting with this one) have some changes made to them. Now that I've had the time to devote to revising this story some, I am able to go back and add in/change details as I wanted to to make this story a more complete, well-rounded one. I hope you enjoy the new material. **Leave me a review and let me know!**

* * *

_**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**_

**The Ministry of Magic**  
**London, England**  
**November 19, 2003 – Wednesday Morning**

Ginny entered my office that morning with a copy of the paper. Silently, she passed it to me, her face grim.

_**Malfoy Heir To Wed**_

Astoria positively gloated in the picture below, her arm entwined like a serpent's through Draco's, the other showing off a _fecking huge_ emerald and diamond engagement ring on her left hand. Her fiancé looked his typical gorgeous self – and _utterly _disinterested with the fanfare of the press release.

He was marrying her to get over me. I knew it as assuredly as I'd known he'd been at my flat the other night waiting for me. That meant he had feelings for me that went deeper than what he'd professed. How deep, I didn't know, but it was enough to push him into that venomous troll's arms. The kiss he'd seen between Daniel and I had most likely been the deciding factor for him; I'd obviously moved on, so he should too, right?

This shouldn't affect me. Draco was a grown man, and if he wanted to make mistakes of epic proportion and bugger up his life then that was his fault. I'd given him a chance and he'd turned me down. I shouldn't care in the least.

But I did.

Worse, I more than cared – I _hurt _knowing his stubbornness had brought us to this place where neither of us was truly happy.

I put the paper down and pressed my face into my hands, breaking into a full-on fit, complete with muffled screams of frustration and tears of bitter anger. Ginny immediately locked my door, owl'd a memo to her boss that she was out on business, and ran interference on any of my work-related matters for the rest of the day. She ordered us take-away lunch from the Ministry cafeteria, and me a pint of Fortescue's Strawberry-Vanilla Swirl. She stayed with me every step of the way, holding me and letting me get the poison of sharp envy and biting regret out of my system.

I didn't go home until late that night to avoid anyone in the building possibly seeing me in such a state, and with that stupid newspaper firmly in hand. Not even Gin dared take it from my grip.

**X~~~~~X**

**The Ministry of Magic  
London, England  
November 24, 2003 – Monday Morning-Afternoon**

Harry knocked on my door at exactly eleven o'clock with an invite for lunch.

"Ron's not going to be there, is he?" I asked, not in the mood to handle my jealous, slightly-obsessed ex-boyfriend today. Last week had been tough enough, and I didn't relish the thought of kicking off this week with a confrontation of any kind.

My best friend shook his head, and his long, rakishly messy bangs fell across one eye. He pushed them back with a negligent hand. "Just us."

I smiled with relief. "Let me get my coat and purse."

It had been months since Harry and I had hung out, the specter of his and Ginny's breakup looming like a pall over and between everything, making it impossible to be comfortable. I'd supported both of my friends, refusing to play any sort of 'blame game' and take sides, and thankfully, neither of them had deigned to put me in such a position. However, Harry had put space between us to deal with his pain on his own (adopting the typical 'lone wolf syndrome' he'd often fallen back on during our younger days), whereas Ginny had gravitationally orbited me like a twin moon, keeping us both too busy with pet projects and trouble-making to notice the passage of time (which is how I got tangled up with the Muggle nightclub scene to begin with).

I enthusiastically tidied up the stack of papers on my desk, set them aside, gathered my belongings (wand tucked inside my clutch) and took Harry's arm as we made our way to the lifts.

We decided on trying out the new café in Diagon Alley – Le Chat Noir. It served quiches, soup, a selection of pasta and green salads, as well as delicate pastries that the culinary critics in _The Daily Prophet_ had raved over. It's selections of teas from around the world as well as specialized coffees and espressos – introduced to wizarding Britain for the first time – also won customers over, often to the sight of long lines. I hoped we'd get a table, as we were a tad earlier than the usual lunch rush.

We arrived and were fifth in line, talking amicably about anything other than work, when Harry said the one thing that I had dreaded might come up in conversation: "I read the paper. I'm sorry that things didn't work with Malfoy."

Two people ahead of us in line, a tall brunette tilted her head and turned one ear towards us, clearly having heard the infamous last name of my ex-lover, her interest piqued. Shite, I hoped that wasn't a reporter for the gossip columns!

"It's fine," I murmured under my breath, making it clear that I didn't particularly care to have this discussion in public.

Harry stared at me a moment and I swore those piercing green eyes were looking straight through into the very vaults of my heart. He turned his head, looking about, and right away noted the nosey woman, who was hastily reaching into her purse for something. When she pulled out a pad and a self-inking quill, he sighed. "Ah," was all he said in understanding. "I've gone on a couple of dates this last month," he announced a little louder, trying to pull the reporter's attention off of me and my non-relationship with Draco. "They were nice, but nothing serious."

He stopped talking after that, and we waited in silence until it was our turn to be seated. The journalist was, to our relief, seated across the room from us, and after the waitress took our order, Harry took the precaution of charming our table for privacy.

Sitting forward in his chair, he reached across the table and covered my hand with his own. "Really, 'Mione, _are _you alright?"

I choked back the sob that slowly fought its way up my throat. Pursing my lips, struggling not to let my true feelings show was futile, however, as Harry had been my best friend for too many years and it was hard to hide anything of myself from him. Whatever tic he saw in my features gave me away. He sighed. "Is punching out Draco Malfoy going to be on your Christmas list this year, because I'd be happy to deliver early, if you want."

The offer was so sweet and twisted, and my emotions so frayed that I let out a small hysterical giggle even as tears flooded my eyes. "No," I withdrew my hand from under his, hastily wiped at the leaking fluid before it ruined my tiny bit of make-up. "I'll be fine. I'm just disappointed."

"Can I ask what happened there, or would that be pushing it?" he asked, concerned.

I shrugged one shoulder and took a sip from my water glass. "You have to understand, Harry, that I started a new chapter in my life after Ron. I realized back in May that I hadn't been with him for the right reasons, and I'd stayed because I felt pressured by the unrealistic expectations of myself and others. Everyone kept reiterating that he and I were _supposed_ to be. I'd always trusted that myth as a child because I didn't know any better, and when we got older, after the war, that belief was only reinforced by my parents, his family, our friends, even strangers who read about us in the paper. We were a 'Golden Couple,' they said. It was fate for us to marry, have children, and live happily ever after."

Harry snorted and bitterly smirked. "Yeah, I can intimately relate."

That stopped me. Yes, he _could_ identify, couldn't he? He and Ginny had been touted as the same thing as Ron and I, and they'd both felt the exact same obligation. It was strange how our lives often paralleled, Harry and mine: we were both focused and ambitious creatures (my father would have said we were 'work-obsessed'), and we were both emotionally vulnerable as a by-product of our good intentions. Neither character trait was particularly healthy, however. That's why I'd attempted to change after the break-up with Ron; I'd recognized that I was on a path that would lead me to a lifetime of disappointment, because I'd never achieve every single thing that everyone expected of me. I couldn't please the world, so instead, I'd determined to find out what I needed to make _myself_ happy and be content with that. Hence my (and similarly, Ginny's) little experimental foray into the world of 'soft' BDSM.

To my surprise, I'd actually achieved a goal by taking such a bold step into that strange, new domain: I'd discovered that I had the ability to give up control in a relationship when necessary. The only hitch was that I'd discovered that I was too honest to physically give myself up to another without surrendering my feelings, too. The fact was I couldn't do casual sex; Draco and Daniel both taught me that lesson.

"But the more years that passed, the more Ron and I both knew we weren't right for each other," I forced the painful memories to the surface to face them and to put this demon to rest once and for all. "Cheating with Lavender was his rebellion – and it achieved its aim: to cut the tether that held us both trapped. I don't hate him for it, but I do dislike how he handled it. He broke my trust and faith in him as a friend, not just a lover. I couldn't help but be shook-up by that, as well as by his accusations for our relationship's failure."

"Hermione, he was bang wrong-" Harry tried to excuse his best friend, but I held up a hand to cut him off.

I firmly shook my head. "No, Harry, he was right. Our personalities didn't mesh because I was too controlling, holding on too tight in an effort to be perfect, because I didn't want to disappoint all those people who I felt were watching and judging us. But to be fair, Ron was too laissez-faire, never willing to do enough to compromise or to meet my efforts. We're opposite ends of the coin, never meant to meet."

He sighed, recognizing the truth. "And Malfoy?"

Our waitress arrived with our meal selections just then, so the conversation paused. When she moved off again, I answered him.

"I didn't expect it, but… Draco and I… we clicked," I admitted, cutting my spinach quiche up into bite-sized squares. "When we were together, it was very elemental. Not to be overly romantic or cliché, but what we had was like fire and lightning and earth all meshed together." I could feel my cheeks burn with the memories. "With him, I was able to let go and just enjoy life. He made it easy and quite enjoyable. I just didn't realize that I had expectations for a serious relationship with him until one day, I realized that they were there. By then, they were undeniable and something had to change. It was inevitable."

Harry chewed on his chicken salad sandwich and I began eating, giving us both a chance to process the information before he spoke. "And his expectations were different from yours?"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to loosen the knot in my chest. "They were because I switched on him." When he gave me a confused look, obviously not recognizing the expression, I explained. "I went into the relationship with one set of criteria that we both understood were the rules, but then I got greedy. I wanted more. When I confronted him on it, he was torn. He seemed to want it, too, but there was a part of him that wasn't ready for the commitment."

My best friend shook his head. "He's getting married, 'Mione. He can't be that afraid of the concept."

Hateful, scalding tears erupted again, and I dabbed at the corners of my eyes with the back of a knuckle, my hands trembling. "I know, but I think he's marrying that awful woman because I dumped him and he thinks I've moved on. When I thought he wouldn't give me what I wanted, I'd begun seeing someone else and he found out about it. The next day, there's that announcement in the papers. I don't think he loves her. I've seen them together – _you've_ seen them together. They were at your office just two weeks ago."

"Yeah, Astoria Greengrass wasn't the most pleasant person I've ever met," Harry confessed. "Are you still seeing this other man?" He paused as if considering something he'd never contemplated before. "It _is_ a bloke, right?"

I couldn't help the small smile that escaped. "Yes, Harry, Daniel is a man. We're not dating any more, though. I ended it before it had really begun. It was a foolish rebound to get over Draco's rejection."

He tilted his head to the side as he munched a mouthful of greenery. When he choked it down, he voiced his thoughts. "So, you're still head-over-heels for Malfoy, then?"

What could I say? It was true. Draco and I had forged a connection based upon trust and fevered lust and mutual pleasure. It had been the beginnings of love for me - a love that I truly believed in the depths of my soul could have rocked my entire world if it had been given a chance. I knew it would take me a lifetime to get over such an important loss. "Yes, and for that reason, I've decided not to date anyone else for a while. I won't go into another relationship as long as I have feelings for another man. What about you?"

Shoveling three more bites into his mouth, Harry took the time to consider his response. "I'm not over Gin. Those other witches only proved it. Even knowing she's with Zabini…" He resignedly sighed. "What a mess we've both made of our love lives, huh?"

I concurred, sniffling back my tears and shoving a bite of quiche into my mouth. It was a good recipe – melt-in-your-mouth delicious, actually.

My luncheon companion pushed his food around on his plate. "So, what now?"

I took another swallow from my water glass and primly wiped the corners of my mouth with my napkin. "We finish lunch, we order dessert and coffee, and then we saunter back into work and focus on getting one project finished before six o'clock. After that, we go to our individual homes, treat ourselves to take-away, read a book or watch the telly or take a bath, and then have a goodnight's rest. Tomorrow, we get up and do it all again, until eventually, it doesn't hurt so much and we move on."

His lips twitched. "One day at a time then, huh?"

I raised my fork and his utensil met mine in the middle of the table, our tines saluting each other in agreement, my façade of strength firmly in place to give us both hope. "One day at a time," I resolved.

We returned to the Ministry half an hour later, and as Harry left me at my office door, I noted his slightly slumped shoulders as he walked away down the hall. I felt sorry for my best friend, understanding his pain. Again, our lives were on a parallel path.

As I shut my office door, I leaned my head against the cool wood and prayed for both our sakes that Harry and I could find some small measure of peace and happiness, even if our greatest wishes were now entirely out of reach.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

* * *

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE:_**

**_*This is not a Harry/Hermione story and there will be no romance between them in this fic. There is nothing but friendship there. I'm sorry if this chapter confused you. I just wanted to clarify that point._**


	14. Chapter 14

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

As I explained at the beginning of last chapter, this chapter underwent a big revision, adding new content and changing a few details (dates, specifically).

This is the long-anticipated confrontation scene that leads towards the goal of reconciliation, dear readers. As I explained on my blog (rzzmg . wordpress . com), I'm a big proponent of happily-ever-after Dramione. If you read most of my stories, you'll know that. But, the path to get there isn't always neat and clean. People make mistakes. It's human nature. But in the end, they usually come out better for it, as the mistakes force them to change, to grow and to reinvent facets of themselves. In Draco and Hermione's cases, those changes are essential to them letting go of their pasts and their hang-ups, so they can build a future for themselves, individually and together. Their SWITCH - both of them - is their ultimate salvation.

Please review & let me know your thoughts!

* * *

_**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**_

**The Ministry of Magic  
****London, England**  
**November 27-28, 2003 – Thursday Late Afternoon to Friday night**

My days were beginning to blur because my sleep was all off, my head felt full of wool, and my work performance wasn't up to par as a result. I knew it, but worse, my boss knew it. I'd taken a humiliating dressing-down from him first thing this morning, and spent the day huddled in my office working extra hard to catch up. Now, here it was nearing four o'clock, and I'd been crammed behind my desk since seven-thirty this morning, and I _needed_ to stretch my legs.

A fifteen minute break wouldn't hurt, right?

Locking my door behind me with a negligent wave of my wand, I scuttled to the lift at the end of the hall, determined to head up to the new cafeteria on the top floor. The recent addition to the Ministry had been completed just this past February at the behest of many on staff, who worked long hours and often couldn't take time to leave the building for a bite to eat. The food wasn't so wonderful (hence my usual preference for Muggle or Diagon Alley restaurants, if I didn't bring my own lunch), but right now, I needed some caffeine and a little energy, and I didn't have the time to spare to take a jaunt off the premises.

Stepping out into the Atrium, I headed past the Fountain of Magical Brethren (restored to its former glory after the war), and continued through the open double doors at the end. The corridor branched off - one hallway leading towards the General Registry Office and the Minister and his support staff's offices, while the other headed towards the newly built cafeteria.

Just as I stepped through, intending to go right, a flash of platinum blond hair coming towards me from the left caught my peripheral vision. I turned my head...

...and met the startled grey gaze that had haunted my dreams for months.

Malfoy was leaving the Senior Undersecretary's office and heading towards the exit - towards _me_. His pace slowed as we recognized each other, but then sped up as he closed in, and there was a determined glint in his eye for a confrontation with me.

I turned on my heel and headed back the way I'd come, moving fast to avoid him, my heart in my throat. Feeling as worn down as I was, I just knew I wouldn't be able to stomach the thought of faking a hearty 'congratulations' on his upcoming nuptials.

And just my luck, a group of wizard and witch tourists were in from Asia, gathered as a large mass (complete with miniature colored flags to designate groups) smack in the middle of the Atrium, blocking the whole front of the fountain area. I swerved to go around, and that's when he caught my arm.

"Granger, wait," he growled, his touch sending everything in my body into a tizzy.

I slipped out of his grasp, but he must have seen it coming, because he managed to reacquire his hold - firmer this time, and around my wrist rather than my upper arm - and pull me after him as he turned us about and headed back down the quiet corridor of the Minister's office area.

"Let me go!" I hissed under my breath, attempting to tug free without making a scene.

He said nothing, directing us towards the closest private space - the women's loo. Once inside, he let me go, but he also effectively blocked the door with his big body, making escape impossible.

"Who is he?" he demanded before I could even open my mouth. "This _American_." He said the last word with the patented sneer I remembered so well from our childhood.

My jaw unhinged with incredulity, hanging for a moment before I clamped it shut. "That is none of your business. I'm not your girlfriend, remember?" I was the bitter one now, spooning out a little vindictive pleasure by throwing his words back in his teeth. It was petty and awful of me, but I was hurting and wanted to punish him. "Congratulations are in order, I hear. You snagged a pure-blood trophy for your arm - good for you. Your parents and friends will be happy, I'm sure."

He stared at me with so much anger that I felt my stomach drop into my toes.

To my utter mortification, tears flooded my eyes. I wanted out of there pronto before I broke down into a sobbing mass of pathetic goo at his feet. "Now let me by, please. I have work to do."

He menacingly pointed a finger at me. "Don't try to make yourself out the innocent victim here. _You're_ the one who walked out on _me_, remember? I tried-" He cut himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration, clearly struggling for words. "You _told_ me to let you go, for fuck's sake! You didn't even want to talk about it. You just... ran away."

I barked a laughed and it sounded bitchy even to my ears. "What was there to talk about, Draco? You don't want a commitment with me, and I don't want a relationship without a commitment. There is no middle-ground there."

Resolutely he shook his head. "You threw the idea at me without giving me time to even _think_ of a proper response! I'm not a bloody Gryffindor, you know. I don't jump head-first into any situation. I'm Slytherin. I look at things from all angles first." He began pacing back and forth in short strides, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "It's only where _you're_ concerned that I seem to find myself behaving so irrationally! You drive me absolutely spare, Granger. You always have!" Leaning against the wall, he rested his head back and closed his eyes, exhaling a deep breath. "You've turned my whole world upside down in only a few months. I never... expected you."

My heart slammed under my ribs, and I swallowed twice to try to coat my dry mouth with moisture. "What are you saying?"

He stared at me through half-lidded eyes in contemplation, his roaming gaze taking me in from head to toe, causing a familiar, lusty heat to sear through my veins. I felt my cheeks stain crimson and my knickers dampen with anticipation.

The Senior Undersecretary walked in at just that moment.

I could have killed the woman.

"Oh my! Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing in here? I must ask you to please vacate the women's bathroom immediately," she admonished, staring at him above the rim of her bird-thin bifocals.

Kicking off the wall, he accepted the chastisement with grace. "I apologize, Ms. Marchbanks." His eyes returned to me. "Shall we?" he indicated the door, expecting me to walk out with him.

I excused myself as well, feeling quite humiliated at being caught in such a juvenile position by a senior member of staff. My face was pinked now for a different reason altogether, and I quietly, meekly followed Draco back into the hallway, hoping word of this confrontation didn't get back to my boss.

Malfoy took up pace at my side all the way to the lifts, as I prepared to go back to my office, caffeine and sugar needs temporarily forgotten. "We're not done talking," he murmured in my ear as we waited side-by-side, close enough to touch or hold hands if we'd wanted to. His hot breath tickled my hairline, making me shiver.

I wanted to rub against him and shove his hand up my skirt.

"Oh, Miss Granger, I'm glad I caught you!"

My boss. Great. Could this _get_ any more complicated? He waved to catch my attention from behind the group of people exiting a lift and I half-heartedly waved back, plastering a politic smile upon my features. Gawain Robards was a difficult man to like in general, being overly suspicious and blunt to the point of rudeness. Harry didn't even like him, and he got along with most of the new Ministry appointees.

"Good evening, Mr. Robards," I politely greeted him as he marched up to me.

His gaze took in everything - including Malfoy standing somewhere behind and to my left. "I left a stack of folders on your desk along with a set of precise instructions. I'm going to need you to get the list done by tomorrow morning, before ten. It's a very important case - urgent and..." He pointedly looked at Draco over my shoulder again. "It's a most _sensitive_ matter that requires the utmost in privacy." He gave me a flat, serpentine smile. "I know you understand what that requires and will have what I need on-time."

With that, he walked towards the Floos, guaranteeing me a long night sitting at my desk, reading... and no time whatsoever to continue my discussion with Malfoy.

Resigned, I headed towards an open lift, stopping Draco as he made to follow. "You heard him," I sighed. "I'm already not in a good place with my boss right now. If I want to keep my job, this discussion will have to wait."

The bronze gate closed between us. "Owl me," he recklessly requested, his face a mask of regret for this missed chance.

I didn't even get a chance to reply before the main door shut, and the lift moved.

All the way back to my office, I debated the wisdom of doing as he asked. Should I send him a letter, and if so, what more could I say that hadn't already?

I was still arguing the issue with myself at the close of business the next day, the parchment I'd pulled to write the letter sitting blankly on my desk, untouched by ink and waiting for inspiration.

**X~~~~~X**

**Diagon Alley**  
**London, England**  
**December 6, 2003 – Saturday Afternoon**

I left Flourish & Blotts with a solid month's worth of reading material in hand (all of my pre-orders had finally come in!), and headed back down The Alley towards The Leaky Cauldron to Floo home.

For the last week my mind had been turning over the words to the letter I'd not yet written to Malfoy about our predicament, throwing away suggestions left and right, unsatisfied with every option for the tone and how to address the topics I felt were pertinent for us to discuss. A tiny part of me knew I was delaying the inevitable because I was afraid of him rejecting me _again_. I wasn't sure how much my heart could take of this up and down game we were playing. Was this rollercoaster of pain really worth it - was _he_?

As I rushed on my way, my attention partially diverted by my deliberation of the problem, I literally bumped into someone standing in my path hard enough to send me back several steps and for me to drop everything in my arms. "Oh! I'm sorry!" I profusely apologized, not realizing exactly whom I'd collided with, too concerned with my spilled books lying on the slushy cobblestone street. I scuttled to get them up and to assess the damage.

A familiar pale hand held one of my purchases out to me. I paused, mesmerized for a moment by those well-manicured fingers, and the tactile memory of them touching me had my body unexpectedly reacting. I swallowed my inappropriate feelings and took the book from him, careful not to touch in passing. "Thank you," I murmured and regained my height, knees cracking like icicles in the cold weather.

There was no helping it - I'd have to look at him, wouldn't I? But why was I suddenly so apprehensive to do so?

_Because_, the voice of logic and reason in my head niggled, _here stands the object of your greatest torment._

Gathering my courage, I glanced up… and was transported back in time to September, to a suite overlooking Hyde Park, and a pair of glimmering, silver eyes that watched me with such tenderness as we moved in gentle tandem towards the common goal of both giving and receiving pleasure…

All breath was stolen from me and all of my bluster evaporated. In that moment, there was only him, looking at me with a longing so poignant, that it teetered on the edge of irrational. We didn't speak, just stared with all of the yearning of star-crossed love.

"I…I…"

I had a million things to say - why are you looking at me like that? why is this so hard? why must I have to _convince_ you to love me? why are you marrying _her_? - but nothing came out. My brain whirled around and around. I was so very tired all of the sudden, as the events of the past year caught up to me. I'd burned my candle at both ends between Ron and Malfoy and Daniel and work, and I realized in that moment that I didn't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to have to rail against the world to get what I needed. I was done bashing my head against desks and walls.

It took a cold breeze rushing through the Alley, forcing me to turn aside for the magic to break.

"Excuse me," I brushed past him, clutching my books to my chest for safety, as if they could ward away the hurt that even then was constricting my chest.

I got as far as Potage's Cauldron Shop before Draco grabbed and pulled me between the very narrow opening separating it from the brick wall of The Leaky Cauldron, and bore down on me, determination marking every step and fueling the glint in his steely eyes. I backed up and held my purchases between us at all times, a symbolic separator. "What do you think you're doing?" I hissed in shock and growing ire, valiantly making a last stand. "This can't go on! You're engaged!"

"And you're shagging the American," he countered, his voice a growling displeasure.

I wasn't anymore, but he didn't need to know that. "Like I said before, that's none of your business!"

Great return-serve there, I know, but it was all I could think to say.

My back hit the far wall, and I was effectively trapped with only a small space to squeeze through to make good an escape. Draco's arms shot out and caged me and he leaned his nose down to mine, refusing to let me look anywhere but at him. "Tell me, Granger, how much does your Muggle know about you?"

I huffed, clinging to righteous indignation for a shield. "If you're referring to being a witch, nothing. We'd only started seeing each other, and the law is very specific about such things."

His eyes dipped to the vee of my jumper and I knew he could spy a bit of cleavage from his angle. "That's not what I mean." His lips hovered over mine, buzzing them slightly as he spoke to me in a low, velvety-smooth tone that made things inside my womb flip about. "How much does he _really_ know you? Does he know that you can get drenching wet simply by being softly stroked on the back of your knee, or that you moan low in your throat when you've reached your best orgasm of the night?" His nose traveled feather-light over my cheek, and he turned his head so the sides of our faces were pressed together and his lips rested over my ear. "Have you twirled that naughty tongue of yours around his prick and sucked him so deep that you made him lose all control? Has he licked between your thighs and told you that it's the sweetest cream he's ever tasted? Does he love working his cock into you and hearing those adorable whimpers you make? Has he undressed you a piece at a time, simply for the pleasure of watching your expression change? Does he know you like that - like _I _do, Hermione?"

"S-stop this," I gasped at his provocative descriptions of our time together, closing my eyes against the rising need. He smelled the same as I remembered: an enticing blend of almond-scented soap, the black suede of his aftershave, and his body's natural musk. My legs started shaking, and my heart pounded in my mouth. "I-It's over between us."

With a gliding roll of his hips, he rubbed his thick, covered erection against my belly and groaned against my neck with desire. Against my will, one of my hands reached out and gripped the fabric of his shirt over his left peck, and my hips rose to meet his, cradling him in the correct spot against my Mons. He sighed with longing. _"_I miss you, sweetness. Gods, I_ fucking _miss you! You're all I think about. I can't work, I can't sleep…" He brushed his lips against my cheek. "Enough of this stupidity! I want you back._"_

His lips pressed against my throat, once, twice, and then he was suckling and grinding against me. I tried to recall why this was such a bad idea. I may not be with Daniel anymore, but there was still Astoria in the picture… "We can't do this," I murmured, but even then, my damnable body had a mind of its own. My hand pulled him in tighter, and I met his forceful pelvic slide across my jeans with my own. "A-Astoria and you-"

"Tell me the truth, Hermione: could you fall in love with him?" he interrupted, his voice tortured. His breath was wisps of white cloud on the chilled air as his mouth drifted over my jaw and chin, peppering small kisses. "Could you marry him even knowing he doesn't know who you really are and that you want someone else?"

I bit my bottom lip until it bled trying to hold back my tears, but it was a useless endeavor. He'd unmade me again. "I could ask you the same," I whispered, broken-hearted knowing he was going to do exactly that with a malicious, spiteful woman who clearly saw him as little more than a means to an end.

A voice at the end of the narrow strip called down to us. "Oi, a'right down there?"

I peeked under Malfoy's arm. "Patrolling Hit Wizard," I sighed. They'd been a mainstay since the war ended assuring the Alley remained free of undesirables, especially those near the Knockturn. Draco tensed. He couldn't afford to get into trouble with the law again, and he knew that what I said about what we were doing down here might very well land him in prison if I claimed harassment.

I pressed a hand over his arm, and he dropped it to his side and turned so I could wave off the man at the end of our tiny private space. "We were talking," I explained in an even tone, and it technically wasn't a lie. "We're done now."

The Hit Wizard looked between us, the red cloak of his office (in direct contrast to the green the Aurors wore) opened enough for me to see that he had his wand in hand, and was tapping it against a thigh in consideration. Finally, he motioned for us to come out. "Right, well, move along. The Alley here's a family-oriented enterprise. We'll not be havin' anythin' ta tarnish the reputation, yeah?"

It was clear he'd understood the situation and was giving us a pass and a warning. I nodded, wiped my tears away and unsteadily pressed past Malfoy, heading out of the small space, back out onto the street. "Sorry," I contritely apologized to the officer, and he tipped his head in acceptance, but stayed to make sure we did as he required.

I didn't look back at my ex-lover as I quickly headed through the wall into The Leaky Cauldron, nor as I grabbed some Floo powder and stepped into the hearth. My hand was violently shaking as I threw the green crystals to my feet and call out for home.

**X~~~X**

**Hermione Granger's Flat  
Camden, London, England  
December 6-7, 2003 – Saturday Afternoon (seconds later) to Sunday night**

I dropped everything the second I arrived at my flat, stumbled towards the closest piece of furniture I could find – the sofa – fell back into it and worked my jeans and knickers off in a hurry. With desperate need, I shoved two fingers deep and hard into myself and began pumping them in and out to the memories of doing all of the things Draco had murmured in my ear. I also recalled the way he'd felt rubbing against me today and the scent of his rich, coffee-scented breath. I came so hard I screamed his name loud enough to scare Crooks under the bed.

I repeated the experience a second time an hour later, again in the shower before bed, and even woke up in the middle of the night and masturbated a fourth time (no screaming this time, so as not to wake my neighbors and to keep Crooks from deciding I'd finally lost my marbles and it was time to find a better-adjusted owner). I was insatiable, as if Malfoy had doused me in lust potion, but I knew better – this was all me and my enduring, obsessive feelings for him.

Awake, I made my way over to my writing desk and pulled out a piece of parchment. For three hours, I scribbled out every thought, every feeling, every hope I had for Draco. I got it all out and down on paper. This was my last confession to him. Either it worked its magic, or we were done. I wasn't going to put my heart out there for him if I were rejected again.

Later that morning, I went to Diagon Alley to the post and sent the note to Malfoy Manor via owl. After that, I went to The Burrow to find Gin. On the bank of the small lake near her house, we had lunch together and talked and filled up the day with senseless fun to distract me so I wouldn't go insane waiting on a reply.

That night, when I Apparated home, there was no owl waiting for me with a return letter. I'd promised Gin that I'd give Draco three days to reply (she'd insisted that I not assume anything, and to give him a bit of time to respond before making any form of judgment), so I went to bed trying to squash my disappointment.

I said a little prayer in hope, though, before succumbing to the Sandman's influence. A little help from Above never hurt.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**_

**The Ministry of Magic  
London, England  
December 8, 2003 – Monday Morning**

Gin appeared in my doorway again, her face a cross between uncertainty and concern, another newspaper in her hand. I held out my hand, firming up my emotions, expecting the worst.

_**Malfoy Heir Breaks Off Engagement**_

No picture of him this time, but there was a rather lovely image of Astoria trying to duck from the flashbulbs of reporters, tears dripping down her alabaster cheeks. Her left hand was bare of ornamentation, and she seemed extremely distraught as she held her hand up to the side of her face and rushed away. _Probably lamenting the loss of all those galleons, _I sniffed with disdain.

I _really _didn't like prissy, little Astoria Greengrass. I hadn't back in school, when she'd run in Pansy Parkinson's vile gang along with her older sister, and as an adult, that dislike had only doubled - especially after the little show she'd put on in the Aurors' Main Office that day I'd seen her clinging like a weed to Draco. So, holding back the Schadenfreude now at the witch's misery was like asking the moon to pause in her motion.

"Now that's a grin worthy of a serpent," my BFF pointed out with some amusement.

I put the paper down and glanced at her. "If anyone would know," I winked, feeling a strange euphoria overtake my mood.

My best girl friend and her boy-toy Zabini had been through a rough patch there after the whole Halloween thing, but once she'd explained she'd been at the club that night merely to cheer me, and _not_ to party down with a man, he'd forgiven her. Her neck had been covered with the evidence of his full claim upon her the next day. Now, on her right hand, there was a promise ring, given just this last week. They'd been officially dating since September, when she'd taken my advice and gotten him to go out with her a few times _sans _the sex stuff, but that ring had upped the ante in their relationship, taking it to a higher level. Basically, they'd gone exclusive. I was rather happy for her, if not a bit sad for Harry, who'd thrown all of his concentration into his work once he'd heard the news, avoiding any outside socializing, mourning in his habitual "lone wolf" way.

Harry… Ron…

It seemed my two boys were moving away from me the older we got. We'd spent all our time together in our teens, to the point of near suffocation, but the growing pains didn't end with our leaving childhood behind at Hogwarts. Perhaps, it was best for all three of us to move apart for a bit, to give each other some breathing room so we could mature into the people we were meant to be for the rest of our lives. I loved Harry and would definitely be there at his side, as always, if he needed me, but I wouldn't push myself on him unless he seemed in dire trouble. If there were two things he'd resent during this period in his life, they would be pity and too much smothering. As for my ex, yes, I still cared for Ron, despite it all. We weathered the war to end all wars at each other's side, after all. I thought it might be possible for us to one day pick our friendship back up. We would never be as close, but we could be amicable.

Time, I suppose, would tell in both cases.

"So, does this mean you're getting back with blondie?" Gin asked, putting her booted feet up on the corner of my desk and leaning back in the chair across from me. "Are you going to switch again for him?"

I glanced back down at the headline of _The Prophet's_ front page, letting the words burn into my retinas. Draco had broken it off with Greengrass just a day after our run-in at The Alley. He must have done it the next day… which would explain the lack of a response to my note.

It hit me then: this _was_ his reply. Call it another hunch, but I knew he was letting me know he was once more available in the boldest way a Slytherin could. Going public – leaving his reputation open to ridicule for committing such a social _faux pas _as dumping his fiancée just two weeks after their initial announcement to wed - left no doubt to the fact that he'd meant it when he'd said when he'd claimed to want me back.

Still, knowing that, I shook my head to Gin's question. I had no intention of exclusively playing the role of the submissive again. However, if he wanted to meet on equal terms… I told Ginny my plan. She thought it was a sure-thing.

**X~~~X**

**The Ministry of Magic  
London, England  
December 10, 2003 – Wednesday Afternoon**

I stared at the ticket in my hand, and once more was swamped with indecision. It was June all over again, only this time, I was the gift-giver and not the receiver.

Taking a deep breath, I put the voucher in an envelope, sealed it and left my office for the elevator up to the Main Lobby. The Ministry's 24-Hour Owl Delivery Service wasn't cheap (a new addition after the war, too, situated just to the left of the newsstand), but I didn't own an owl of my own to send out correspondence because, frankly, Crooks would stage a _coup _that would end in an empty cage and a few feathers littering the bottom if I attempted to bring one home. Besides, the owls here were nondescript – a variety that any wizarding postal shop carried. Draco wouldn't know the note was from me until he opened the envelope, as I'd planned. That way, there was less chance of it being intercepted by someone who didn't want him to see me, or of him throwing it away, if things weren't at all as I was assuming.

"Oh, Miss Granger," the man behind the counter caught me before I turned and flounced off back to work. "This arrived for you this morning," he handed me an envelope and had me sign for it, apologizing for the lateness of the delivery, using the excuse that he'd been backed up because one of his employees had called in ill today. I immediately took the envelope down to my office for privacy, recognizing the linen paper, and knew who had sent it to me even without the additional of a rose this time. I prayed I hadn't just made a mistake in sending him a ticket to this weekend's Carnival. I mean, what if this was a letter telling me he was moving to Iceland to be with his other witch - some blonde goddess named 'Angelique' or some ridiculous crike like that? With my string of bad luck this year, it wasn't so farfetched a possibility.

Inside Malfoy's note was a ticket for this weekend's Carnival of Naughty Sins: _'Superbia,' _also known as 'Pride' – the final sin.

I laughed out loud, held the thick-stock, rectangular square to my chest and did something completely uncharacteristic: I jumped up and down, squealing with excitement. It was rather an undignified response, but I couldn't seem to help it.

Having gotten that out of my system, I calmly marched over to Ginny's office to let her in on the news - and to get her aid in finding an appropriate outfit for this Saturday's special occasion.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_


	16. Chapter 16: Part I

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**This chapter has gone through a rewrite as well, and I've split it up with a brand new section of story to appear in Chapter 16-Part Two (coming soon)!**

**Please review!**

* * *

_**CHAPTER SIXTEEN – PART ONE**_

**Festival of Sins  
The Den and Centro, London, England  
December 13, 2003 – Saturday Night (Special Event: Carnival of Naughty Fun – A Celebration of 'Superbia - Pride') **

Before we stepped up to turn over our tickets to the club's doorman, I asked Gin for a last minute perusal. "You're beautiful," my friend loyally reassured me. "He'd be stupid not to notice."

Yes, well, Malfoy was known for being _quite_ stupid on occasion, I knew, and I was as nervous as a virgin tonight, my palms actually sweating. I couldn't help it. This last year I'd been tossed around the chaotic seas of emotion worse than Viola De Lesseps (a favorite deuteragonist of mine), and just then, I was almost expecting the cliché tragic dénouement to Draco's and my story. It was because my confidence was a little shaken by that creeping voice of doubt that had often plagued me since Ron's infidelity. What _if _Malfoy had only agreed to meet me to inform me that 'Angelique' was expecting his child and that was why he'd so spectacularly dumped that bitch-slag, Astoria? And oh, yes: he wanted one last shag-off with me for old time's sake – was I up for it?

I know – simply ridiculous, right?

Still, I'd allowed such misgivings to dictate my formal wear for tonight's meeting, so I was covered either way. I'd gone in for a mix of sexy, yet elegant to make it clear that I wasn't here for an easy, dirty ride against the wall, but for a long, hungry seduction of the heart - so long as there was no other woman in the picture to fuss it up. The white, taffeta dress fell tastefully to mid-thigh, and sported three-quarter sleeves. The gathered neckline dipped low, yes, and was quite daring, as was the way the outfit tightly fitted my curves like a glove about my waist and hips, but the overall look was classy, not cheap. I partnered it with a pair of elegant silver sandals with an ankle strap, the three inch heel made of clear resin (that small vanity is what had sold me on the shoe, honestly). My toes were painted crimson, same as my nails and my lips – the only 'wantonness' about me, as my jewelry and the rest of my makeup was really understated. Overall, I was hoping my date would like the package, as the effort had been partially for him, too, not just for my own gratification.

We passed our tickets over, were hand-stamped, and shuffled inside the club as the line behind us pushed forward, patrons eager to participate in the sins of alcohol and flesh as the end of the year drew close.

The place was throbbing with the press of bodies as the last Carnival of 2003 packed the house. The music was loud with heavy booty-bass, and the lighting had been change to reflect the season: red flashed with green, silver with blue, purple with gold. It was an amazing synchronization of visual and auditory stimuli that must have taken the club's entertainment engineers weeks in advance to work out.

Gin and I headed towards our usual table. Zabini was already there, and he instantly focused on my best friend, moving to intercept her with quick stride. As soon as she was in his arms, he dragged her against the wall and started ravishing her mouth, his hands sliding over her body as if he was E'd up and needed to touch and pet every inch of her. My friend was clearly in her own little Heaven from the attention.

To my immediate disappointment, I didn't see my date, however. Maybe he was in the loo, or at the bar, or…

Wait, what if he'd backed out at the last minute?

No, that was just me choking. He'd come tonight, otherwise Zabini would have said something (at least, I'd hoped he'd be man enough to do so). Maybe Malfoy was nutting up before stepping forward? I'd just have to wait a bit for him to show. I moved out of the pedestrian path and closer to the table, scanning the crowd for a familiar head of platinum hair, trying not to pay attention to the fact that Gin's tongue was currently rammed down Blaise's throat and he had a hand up her skirt. I was on sensory overload as the seconds ticked by and my search found no match.

Between one beat and the next, I felt him as a wall of intense heat behind me, pressing in. His arms came around, clad in dark blue silk, one wrapping about my waist, the other holding up a red rose and the torn end of his admissions ticket with the imprint of my lips in bright red gloss still frozen over the lettering. It was definitely the one I'd sent him, and he was letting me know he'd come specifically because I'd asked it of him. He tucked the stub into my cleavage, wedging it against the lace of my bra through the neckline of my dress, suggestively rubbing it against the mound of one breast and then used the satiny petals of the rose to stroke across the same sensitive flesh before handing it off to me.

Taking the chance – I'd come this far, so why not? - I fully leaned back into him, and rested my head against his chest, my hips against his. His hard erection snuggled into the crack of my backside. Even in heels, he stood inches taller; I liked the differences in our heights. His lips rested against my temple, and he fully embraced me with what felt to be a deep sigh of relief. We stood that way for several minutes, ignoring the rest of the world, tuning out the crowd and the music, and I felt the rightness of being with him again settle over my very aura.

He slid his mouth down to my ear, pressing over it so he could be heard and spoke to me. "Thank you for coming tonight."

I nodded and turned my head, mouthing, 'you, too.'

"Dance with me," he requested, loosening his hold to take my hand and lead me towards the edge of the floor. A sultry beat I didn't recognize – some remix by the DJ – played, giving us the opportunity to come together. We pressed noses into necklines and held on for all we were worth, swaying to the music. Several times, Draco burrowed under my earlobe into my hair or in the crease of my neck and deeply inhaled my scent, sighing with longing. Each time, his arms tightened around me a fraction more.

When the beat eventually sped up long minutes later, we didn't let go or change styles. Staying at the very edge of the dance floor, we used the time to intimately reconnect our formerly divergent hearts, reassuring ourselves and each other that this was real, and that we were finally together again. I lost track of all time and space, falling into Draco, letting his warmth and scent penetrate and envelope me.

"Can we go into the back to talk?" he asked, his lips pressed to my ear, startling me back into reality.

I nodded, and we reluctantly separated. My lover took my hand and led me towards the now-familiar "Employees Only" door in the back. The bouncer nodded in recognition and let us through. It seemed my date had advanced-purchased a room for us from the cashier, just in case – room number one, where we'd originally been assigned in May at the start of all of this. It seemed rather poetic, actually, that we were returning there now to begin a new chapter in our lives (and I hoped it would be together).

He fit the gold key into the lock and turned the knob, letting me go before him in a gentlemanly fashion. My feet felt like they moved through molasses as I crossed the threshold and entered the familiar room. In a direct reversal of the other six suites, this one had a black carpet with red sheets on the mattress. The walls were painted a muted grey. Everything else was the same, though, even down to the bowl filled with colorful condom choices and the basket filled with naughty goodies.

I sat on the end of the bed, keeping my legs tightly together, and attempting to sit for Business, rather than _business_. Draco locked the door behind us and came to sit at my left. He fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable, and after thirty seconds, stood up and began pacing. One pale hand ran through his hair, dropped over his eyes and smoothed over his face with clear nervous anxiety. I could feel he was fighting to let go of his pride to say the words we both needed to hear. I sat quietly, waiting.

By the fourth turn about the short space, he stopped, fell to his knees before me and took my hands in his larger ones, pressing kisses to the knuckles. "I was wrong to let you go," he finally admitted, laying his cheek against my fingers. "I was a fool. But I need you to understand what I was thinking – all of it. Will you listen?"

"Of course," I conceded. It was important to air the past if we were to go forward.

His long, dark gold lashes tickled my skin as he turned my hand and pressed a kiss into the palm. "Thank you." He sat back on his heels and looked up at me. "When we first got together in May, Granger, it was like…" He fumbled for the right words. "Like like a fucking dream come true. You're so amazingly beautiful and incredibly sexy, and you were so receptive to my touch. You _wanted_ me to push your boundaries and bend you to my will, and you _trusted_ me with your pleasure despite our… well, our _really _bad history. Each time after that just got better and better. By the fourth time we'd met up, it felt like we were made for each other – you the willing sub, me your obliging Dom." He glanced down at my knees, his hands still loosely holding onto mine. "But then, things changed that night. I felt it in both of us."

I conceded with a simple nod, recognizing the truth in his words. By August, I'd begun to seriously shift my thinking about what I wanted from Malfoy, flirting with the idea of taking our meetings out of this nightclub and into the light of day. Apparently, he had, too.

"After that Carnival, it wasn't all about dominating you anymore." He faltered, as if admitting this were a difficult endeavor. "I started fantasizing what it would be like for you to top me on occasion - and that scared the hell out of me. I'd sworn never to let anyone control me like that." He hesitantly peeked up at me. "You remember we talked about it?"

I nodded. It was one of the few times he'd let me see beyond his carefully-constructed façade to the man inside.

"Even then, I couldn't seem to help myself. My every waking and sleeping thought was about us together in a variety of ways – mostly sexual, but sometimes it was just about us doing things that normal couples did, too. When I brought you to my suite at Hyde Park, it wasn't planned, but it didn't feel wrong." He looked up at me with vulnerability reflecting in his mercurial eyes. "Until you, I've never brought any woman there, Hermione. That's my private sanctuary away from the world, where I go when I need solitude. I'm usually very protective of it, but I didn't think twice about taking you there, to my bed. It felt _so bloody right _to make love to you like we did and in that place."

He'd brought me to his private man-cave, and not his common shag nest? I felt strangely honored by that.

"When I saw that drunken Muggle grab you in the club that time-" The change in his expression was night and day; darkness clouded his expression and his eyes shuttered to half-mast. He looked very much like the boy I'd known back in our sixth year at school – closed off, angry, a menacing violence simmering under the surface. "I'll admit I wanted to kill him, Hermione. I wanted to hurt him for daring to touch what I was beginning to think of as mine. I'd become possessive of you, even though we hadn't formally changed the nature of our relationship. The only thing that stopped me was the thought that you'd never forgive me if I _Avada'd _him."

My disapproval alone had stayed his hand?

The thought made me realize just how much power I actually had in our relationship – and without me even recognizing it.

"Later, when we were sitting in the Hit Wizards Office and giving our statements, my recorder was Kevin Entwhistle," he explained. "Remember him from school? He didn't believe me when I said I was out at the club that night with you. In fact, he almost became belligerent in his assertion that there was no way that you – Gryffindor's princess and war heroine - would be seen with the likes of me – a scumbag Death Eater." He paused, and I could see him trying to fence the pain such a thought brought up.

"_Former _Death Eater," I firmly rebuked, immediately putting an end to that self-deprecating charge. "Honest Curse-Breaker now for Gringotts."

He nodded in reluctant agreement. "Still, you understand? That's when it hit me: we're from two different background customs, and our reputations are as opposite from each other as north and south. Being together – no one would ever accept it, except maybe our closest friends. I couldn't reconcile my need to have you with the reality of such a hopeless situation. It became too much all at once. When I saw Freckle Face professing his undying love for you and begging you to give him another chance, I was hurt seeing him touch you, knowing that even though he'd been a complete wanker arsehole in cheating on you, people would still choose to overlook that and approve if you went back to him. He could offer you the one thing I couldn't: being in an acceptable relationship."

He sounded terribly resentful, and I found I didn't like that sulky tone coming from such a beautiful mouth.

"By the time I'd made it to the elevator," he continued, not perceiving my eyes straying to his lips, watching them form words and wondering what they'd taste like right that second, "I'd convinced myself that Weasley was the bloke you were _supposed _to be with, not me. It seemed the right conclusion. I mean, you grew up together, you were friends, and face it, he's almost as loved as you by the world, seeing as he's Potter's best friend and an Auror - a righteous protector of all wizard-kind." He mockingly rolled his eyes and shook his head, and I couldn't help but giggle.

Just as suddenly as his humor appeared, though, it was gone, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon him. Gripping his hands tightly, I made to speak up, to debate his assertion about Ron and me, but he shook his head. "Let me finish, please." I sealed my lips and let him speak his piece, saving my rebuttal for later.

He let out a heavy breath. "I snapped at you that night because I was bitter at those thoughts, and said something cruel to intentionally drive you away. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry," he sincerely apologized. "I knew the minute the elevator doors closed I'd been an idiot, and wanted to make it up to you, which is why I invited you to Rome for dinner. I thought we could take it slow and try to see if it were possible to enjoy an evening together without sex involved, to see if maybe we could make it work, despite my misgivings. It was going so well…" His lips tightened, and he looked a bit vexed. "But you threw off my plans when you bluntly asked about where we stood and if there was anyone else. I hadn't expected that question, but I tried to be honest with you. I could tell it only made you angry, though, and when I went to explain my side of things, I made it worse. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings again, but… let's be honest, Granger: you never really did tell me in plain-speak until that night that things had changed for you. Sure, I'd wished, and a part of me was beginning to believe that maybe you wanted the same thing I did, but I couldn't read your mind to absolutely know."

I wanted to refute, but kept my mouth shut. I'd promised to hear him out, after all.

He pulled one hand out of mine and ran it through his hair, and I was beginning to realize that this was an anxious tick he'd acquired somewhere along the line. A pit of churning emotion opened up in my belly again, and I worried he was just about to say something that would cut me to the quick.

"I won't lie, because I know you'd get even angrier with me if I did," he explained, taking a deep breath and confessing all. "For the first four months we'd hooked-up, I'd been seeing those two other women I told you about when I wasn't with you."

OUCH! See - to the quick.

"But I'm not seeing either of them anymore, and to be fair, you'd made it clear from the start that you were only looking for casual with me," he quickly justified, and I had to remember that he was technically right. I was the one who'd initially set the parameters of our interactions, and I'd stated upfront that first night that all I'd wanted was some fun, nothing serious. "I didn't know you'd eventually want more," he continued, licking his lips nervously, "and frankly, as each month passed, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop – for you to turn to me one night and say, 'thanks, it's been fun - cheers!' and never look back."

Well, I suppose I could have done…

"In October, when you asked me if we could go exclusive, it was like wading through a dream again," he persisted. "I just couldn't believe that you'd want that with me. All of my insecurities about our different stations in life and about our past rose to the front to mock me," he admitted, regretfully dropping his gaze to my feet. "And then there were the other issues. Seriously dating you meant some big changes. Like, you said you were a switch, which meant I'd have to give up some of my control to you, allowing you to dominate me on occasion. That scared me. And having to fight everyone's disapproval of me all over again for daring to 'corrupt' you, the world's Golden Girl – that was quite daunting. And then there was the issue of you maybe realizing later that we were facing impossible odds and that I just wasn't worth it." He swallowed and it was loud in the quiet room. "If I'd let you in and you left me to go back to Weasley because being with him would be easier…" He left it unspoken, but I could hear the pain in his voice.

Godric Almighty, I _had_ been contemplated mere months ago in a moment of weakness ditching Draco and returning to Ron for exactly the reason he'd feared: because it would be less problematic in the long-run. True, it had been a fleeting thought, but I'd definitely had it. My lover's fears and doubts were certainly founded, weren't they?

He looked as truly ashamed by the same inadequate feelings as I was struggling with just then. "Given everything, Granger, and despite what I'd hoped for, I started to believe that maybe you and I outside of this place just wouldn't be possible. I talked myself into the thought that we shouldn't change what we had going because it would be just too hard a fight." He deeply inhaled and let it out in a rush. "But I was looking at the situation through my Slytherin sensibilities, and I'd forgotten that you're a Gryffindor - born to fight impossible odds. You didn't seem to understand my fears, because you have enough courage to see them as easily overcome obstacles. I couldn't, and I had trouble conveying that correctly because I'd been caught flat-footed."

It was true; I'd completely disregarded his concerns that night at the Italian restaurant-villa, and I hadn't exactly been forthcoming with my thoughts until that confrontation, either. I'd knee-jerk reacted that night, my feelings hurt by his perceived rejection.

I was starting to understand why he'd been so reluctant to commit.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "When you left Rome, it ripped me in half, sweetness. I'd spent that whole next week plotting how to win you back. I'd enlisted Blaise and we followed you and Red to that club in the old church. Getting a costume was easy with transfiguration, but it took us a while to find you two with so many people. When I saw you dancing with that-" He gritted his teeth and stopped himself from getting fancy with the adjectives, as I'd previously requested. "With that Muggle dressed like a doctor, I stepped in. When you slapped me, I lost my cool. I wasn't thinking when I brought us back to the suite – I just wanted a place that was quiet so we could talk. But that costume…" He shut his eyes and a pinkish tinge highlighted his cheeks. "That sexy, little costume was so _bloody _tempting."

His free hand skimmed up my smoothly-shaved calf, stopping just behind the knee – an erotic spot for me, as he had so rightly pointed out in Diagon Alley the other week. My breath hitched, but I didn't try to stop him. In truth, I wanted him to touch me right about now. My back teeth ached for that electric current that shot all through me as my arousal was stimulated.

"I wanted you to let me seduce you. I wanted you to trust me to be your Dom again. I thought if we could just go back to the way things had been in the beginning then everything would be fine between us again," he owned up. "But we couldn't go back because somewhere along the line, you'd gone and switched on me. You didn't want a Dom anymore – you wanted a partner. Because of all of the ticks against us, I wasn't sure I could be that for you. Honestly, I was too much a coward to try. Even as you Disapparated from my suite, I knew I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life." His fingers traced a circle pattern behind my knee, setting off a detonation of sparks up my thighs.

"The thing with Astoria – it was rash and stupid," he candidly stated. "My parents were pushing me to settle down, and she kept buzzing around, ingratiating herself to them. I figured, 'fine, why the hell not?' I wanted you to think I could move on, too, since it seemed you were determined to leave me behind."

I nodded, having already assumed what that relationship with Miss Greengrass was really all about. Yes, it had still stabbed deep, but I suppose, I'd done the same to him with Daniel. The tit-for-tat was nothing more than petty foolishness that cost us both so much.

"It was when I saw you at the Ministry two weeks ago, that I realized I couldn't let it – _you_ - go," he professed, his fingers inching up one thigh. "Standing in that ugly pink restroom, all I wanted was for you to look at me as you did in September at my Hyde Park flat – with trust and openness." He freed his other hand from my hold, and it mirrored its mate on the opposite side as he sat up, his chest pressing against my knees. His fingers smoothed up and down my bare legs, stirring my need. My knickers began to moisten with anticipation. "You're it for me, Granger. That day we met in the Alley and we touched again, and you wouldn't answer my question about falling in love and marrying someone else, I knew right then that I was going to do whatever it took to win you back." He raised his face to mine, his eyes earnest in their appeal, his hands pausing in their sensual study of my legs. "And after getting your note… Nothing is going to stand in my way anymore – not my fears, not my parents, not my friends, not anyone in our whole bloody world. I want us more than any of that. The question is: do you?"

I kicked my own bum for having run from this discussion in Rome back in October. If only I'd stayed to actually talk it through, perhaps we could have come to this place two months earlier and avoided all of the drama in between.

No, on second thought, maybe not. The time Draco and I had spent apart had clearly been good for our individual growth. Quite frankly, there had been a part of me throughout the last year that thought many of the same things my lover had, and for the same reasons. His fear of committing to me given the odds against us was _very_ relevant, and couldn't be dismissed as simply cold feet. The space and experiences in between our break-up and tonight had forced us both to quickly grow up in our own ways and to realize what we really wanted out of life. I'd decided I wanted a partner for a mate – someone who would be willing to compromise and work with me towards achieving our greatest pleasures and successes in life, both in and out of bed. It seemed Draco had finally decided he would be willing to trust, let go of some of his fears and try for that kind of an equal companionship, too. It had required a switch in _both_ our attitudes and our priorities to force such huge life-altering choices, however.

Ironically, I realized in that moment that the advice I'd so flippantly given Gin not so very long ago regarding how to determine the correct course for her feelings for Zabini were more relevant to Draco's and my situation than I'd previously given credence. It seemed I _had_ assessed my feelings regarding my blond lover the night we'd enjoyed dinner in Italy - somewhere over dinner and before dessert – and in the vaults of my heart, I'd found it a love worth wanting. Despite Astoria, despite Daniel and despite all of the misunderstandings between us in the middle, it appeared that I still held true to that decision.

We were mere inches apart now, he only a bit lower, and I could scent on his breath that he'd had at least one shot of liquid courage before I'd shown up tonight. On his person, he was wearing my favorite aftershave. His hair gleamed with a freshly washed shine. I reached out to touch his chest, and his shirt was silky soft. My crimson-painted fingertips danced up his throat, over his chin to trace his full lips, and I yearned to taste his kiss, to have him touch my sex.

Everything about the adult that Draco Malfoy had grown into drew me in, made me intensely aware of every breath passing through my lungs, every thud of my pulse, and of how lusciously wet I was between my thighs. I craved him in me, around me, through me. I wanted his cock, his mouth, his touch. I wanted him to recklessly fuck me, but with care. My feelings for him weren't logical or even rational; there weren't charts or statistics I could whip out to quantify them, and although there might be books on relationship psychology, astrological compatibilities, or medicinal products that attempted to explain away their existence, those things would never be able to fully capture the real reason. How could I tell him all of that, though? It seemed too great a thing to say – too scary, too powerful.

My heart found the simplest way.

"I love you."

The tension broke, and he flowed up into me and lay me back onto the bed, settling his body over mine, careful not to crush me by supporting his weight on his elbows. Our mouths met and mated, our tongues stroked, the fringe of his bangs tickled my cheek, and his goatee scratched against my chin with a soft rasp.

"I've missed you, sweetness, so _bloody _much," he murmured between pulls of lips.

"I've missed you, too," I confessed, holding him close and not letting go.

We spent the remainder of our allotted time in the room just kissing. When there came a knock on the door to remind us that we needed to vacate, we did without fuss, turning the golden key in for what we both understood would be the last time.

Draco and I had met and weathered both our sins here at the Festival, and pride had finally fallen before love. This place had well-served our purposes.

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_**TO BE CONTINUED…**_

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_**AUTHOR'S EXTENDED NOTES:**_

**Viola De Lesseps is from the movie, "Shakespeare In Love" (a highly recommended watch).**

**E'd up = British slang for the euphoric feeling that accompanies having taken the illegal drug 'Ecstasy/Exxtasy."**


	17. Chapter 16: Part II

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Brand spanking new chapter for you (was not part of the original submitted to the Hermione Fanon Ships Fest, as this is revision 2.0). Major FAN SERVICE here with sex-sex-sex the theme (and a nice revelation at the end by Hermione that ties up all of her past issues).**

**Please review & let me know what you thought of this chapter!**

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_**CHAPTER SIXTEEN – PART TWO**_

**Malfoy's Private Penthouse Suite  
Hyde Park, London, England  
December 13, 2003 – Saturday Night (seconds later) **

I Side-Along Apparated with Draco to his familiar private flat, feeling an excited fluttering in my stomach that had everything to do with anticipation of what was to come.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asked, his arms still encircling my waist, our chests pressed together, our mouths inches apart.

I shook my head, my gaze firmly fixed upon his lips. "Kiss me some more," I whispered, tasting the sizzle on the air between us.

He dropped his mouth to mine, and there was tenderness to our joining, a hesitance almost, as if neither of us wanted to make this experience bad for the other. Wet, pink lips parted against mine, and he split the seam of my mouth with this tongue, sliding in with soft, delicate licks. God, it was so good to taste this heat again! I'd craved it for too long. Sliding my fingers through his silky, platinum hair, I opened my mouth inviting him to thoroughly ravish me.

Smoothing over the curves of my hips, his hands cupped my bottom, drew me impossibly closer. His arousal pressed hard and restless against my lower belly. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to taste it. I wanted him to slowly fuck my mouth and to taste his semen again. My fingers trickled down his chest, and I maneuvered so there was space to wriggle between us, finding that rigid shaft and stroking it through the cloth of his trousers and pants.

Draco groaned, pulling his lips from mine and kissing across my jaw and down my throat. "Let me touch you first," he requested.

I shook my head. "Let me please you on my terms," I countered as he bit over my pulse.

His breath shuddered in surrender. I felt him nervously swallow as his mouth nibbled upon my earlobe. "Take me how you will, sweetness. I'm yours."

I made quick work of his clothing, leaving mine in place as I knelt at his feet and took his jutting, steely length between my lips. Swirling my tongue about the head, I tasted his lightly-salted pre-come and moaned with pleasure, feeling the tip of his cock vibrate as I did so. His hands encouragingly smoothed through my hair and he hummed with approval. Suckling deeper, I flicked the sensitive flesh under the tapered crown and my lover's hips jerked forward as another, more feral sound was torn from his throat. I glanced up as I lowered my mouth, taking several inches, and he threw his head back with ecstasy. As I pulled back, sucking until my cheeks hollowed, his chest heaved and he actually growled in appreciation.

"Fuck," he gave a long sigh, his fingers twining in my hair, soothingly rubbing my scalp. "Your mouth's so hot and sweet. Will you take in as much as you can? Will you suck me deep, princess? _Please._" His pleas were heavenly psalms to my ears.

I inched him into the cavern of my mouth again, and granted his request, feeling the tip of his magnificent cock touch the back of my throat. Breathing through my nose, I opened wider, trying to control my reflexes. He moved in another inch, and then another until my lips eventually met the end of the long, thick stalk. Sunk all the way inside me, we stilled for a moment to experience the sensation together. Swallowing on the pull out, I tasted another tiny blast of his pre-come across my tongue and licked him like a favorite treat as his hot flesh slid over the length.

Moving with the correct pressure and speed, tightening a fist around his base and stroking up and down in time to my mouth's movements, and using my free hand to caress his buttery-soft sac, I had him sweating in no time. I felt the trembling in his heavy thighs as he tried not to move, to allow me all the control.

"I'm going to come," he warned me. "You don't have to…"

I went deep again, taking him once more to the hilt. On the pull out, he literally quaked under my ministrations and cried out, his grip in my hair tightening up. A hot explosion of semen raced into my mouth. I greedily swallowed it all down, lapping over every inch of him until the release quieted.

As he popped out of my mouth, his cock softening, I licked at my lips to capture every last drop. My jaws ached and my throat was slightly sore from taking him deep, but I purred with delight. He'd let me dominate his pleasure finally!

I glanced up, thrilled that we'd successfully switched our roles for the first time, to find Draco staring down at me with glowing wonder and a wild lust that had clearly not found full satiation just yet. Gripping my arms gently, he guided me to my feet, and turning, hurried us into the adjoining bedroom, where he proceeded to strip my clothing from me one piece at a time, watching my face as I was bared once more to his view. "Leave the heels on," he ordered as I stooped to reach for an ankle strap to help the process along. "Lie down on the bed."

Ah, my Dom was back. Fair was fair, I supposed. I'd directed his pleasure, and now it was his turn to command mine. I did as he wanted.

"Lift your knees and spread your legs wide."

I complied.

He towered over me, looking down with dark desire as my pussy was fully opened to his appraisal. An edge of smugness tilted his lips, glinting in his enigmatic eyes as he stroked his hardening penis back into full prominence. "Want me to fuck that gorgeous cunt of yours, sweetness?"

Licking my lips, I nodded.

"Say it aloud," he demanded. "Tell me that you want me to take you."

Gods, the things this man could make me feel with his suggestive voice! Everything inside of me burned for the fierce pounding that I knew was coming.

My gaze dropped to his pink-red crown, still slightly wet from my saliva, his pre-come weeping from the slit as he continued caressing just the glans and frenulum. "Own me, Draco. Make me never forget tonight."

With slow, deliberate action, he crawled up my body, cradling his cock against my bare pussy lips, rubbing through them. Slicked up by my wetness, he adjusted his hips, his crest tucking into my entrance and pushed with gentle pressure, working into my channel an inch at a time. That silvery gaze of his never left mine, locking on and penetrating through to my very soul.

"I love you, Hermione."

My heart soared at finally hearing the words from his lips, knowing that they were sincere. I wanted to cry with relief as the aching knot that had taken up residence in my chest since September finally let go, freeing me of all reservations and doubt. Wrapping my arms about his neck, I pulled him down for a kiss, fighting the prickling tears behind my eyelids. All the while, he continued that leisurely glide into me, stretching me open, fully connecting us. Our pelvises met and he stopped, caught up in the mating of our mouths.

When the need became too much, I rocked against him, and achieved the desired result. He began fucking in and out of me with long, complete strokes, thrusting deep. Angling our bodies just so, he was able to reach back to grip my bottom and pull it up into him. The position allowed him to clip my clit on every surge forward. I cried out and arched my back off the mattress as my overly-sensitive nub experienced a series of electric shocks as his flesh caressed it.

What had started out as love-making very quickly morphed into a zealous passion that blazed out of control – as was always the way between us. My fingernails dug into his shoulders as his pace quickened as the strength of his lunging hips increased. "_Gods, _Granger," he growled around pulls of our lips. "You're with me here, right now. You're so with me in every way." His shuttling cock drove harder, faster into me, dragging me to the edge of all reason with whimpering cries. I was going to come and it was going to be amazing.

"Come apart for me, sweetness," Draco coerced, pulling his mouth from mine to watch me discover pure bliss in his arms again. "I'll hold you. I've got you."

I let go and flew into the sun.

I wasn't even sure how many minutes had passed before I came back into myself, my eyes transfixed upon Malfoy's contented, smiling face hovering above me. His cheeks were red from his exertions, his brow sticky with perspiration, and his lips rouged and swollen from our kissing. I was betting I looked very much the same just then. Still slightly panting as he came down from his own orgasm, he wrapped his arms about my shoulders and turned so he could flop to his back upon the bed, taking me along for the ride. I ended up sprawled across him, one leg flung over both of his, my body sprawled across his chest, my hair wildly draped over the both of us.

I'd never felt so fulfilled in my whole life – not even when I'd passed every N.E.W.T. with the highest of marks.

"So," he sleepily murmured, his fingers idly skimming over my arm, "Did I adequately fulfill your request? Could you forget _that _in this lifetime?"

I covered my yawn by turning into his shoulder. "Night's not over yet," I teasingly pointed out.

A chuckle rumbled through his chest. "So it's not," he agreed. "Still, not a bad start, if I do say so myself."

Snuggling into the hollow of his neck, I moved my leg… and realized my heels were still on. "Can I ditch my shoes now?"

Draco's neck lifted off the bed as he looked down the length of our naked bodies. When his head hit the soft coverlet again, he snickered. "I suppose. You want me to get them?"

I murmured some sort of agreement, too exhausted to move just then. A moment later, I was out like a light.

**X~~~~~X**

Waking up was disorienting. I didn't recognize the bed I lay in at first, nor did I recall how I'd gotten under the covers, but I could smell the heavy perfume of sex in the air and feel that someone was between my thighs, eating my pussy with a skill that had me creaming and mewling with climax a moment later.

Platinum blond hair poked out from under the blankets as I came down from the high.

"Morning, love," Draco smirked, looking too much like the cat that had caught the proverbial canary. His hands at my hips gripped me tight and he thrust once, merging us together again, sinking to the hilt within my slick, welcoming channel. "Just lie back and enjoy. You had a rough night."

Boy, did I! Malfoy had fucked me three more times over the course of the night, waking me up each time while already inside of me while simultaneously kissing me back into the world of consciousness. He'd ridden me hard from behind the second time, taken me slow while lying on our sides the third time, and then shagged me to within an inch of my life with my legs over his shoulders and me gripping the headboard just before dawn. I was filled with his come… and I loved every moment of it.

"On second thought... put your arms about my shoulders," he commanded with a slow glide, and I did as he requested. "Hold on."

Unexpectedly, he rolled us so that I was on top. This was a first for us in our relationship, as he had always been in a dominant sexual position anytime we'd had intercourse. Settling me correctly onto his length, he let his hands rest upon my hips. "Top me," he requested. "Command me as you wish."

I took him at my leisure, riding his cock while holding his wrists above his head and gently commanding him not to come until I gave permission. I had a petite orgasm soon after. Pulling off his raging hard erection, I then ran my hands and my lips over every inch of him – including the raised, white scar where his Dark Mark had once been inked into his flesh. I could feel him tense up as my lips moved across the area, but he forced his body to relax and accept my touch. To reward his willingness and patience, I took him back into my mouth to finish him, lightly caressing his perineum and his sac, running my fingernails up the underside of his shaft, and dropping down on him until once more my mouth met the base. I swallowed his seed as he ejaculated with a shout of my name.

Drawn into his arms after, he shyly asked if I would allow him to kiss me. It was such a sweet request that I easily gave in. Besides, I wanted to soothe him, so that he would remember this experience – acting in the submissive position in our bed - as having been wonderful.

"It was an unforgettable night," I smiled against his lips, rubbing noses. "Thank you for all of it – especially being willing to switch with me."

Looking at me through half-lids, Draco was the picture of perfect male satisfaction. "Anytime, sweetness. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Lying against his chest, listening to his slowing heart rate, I secretly held back the squeal of joy that bloomed with warmth throughout my breast.

I'd found my perfect partner at long last.

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_**TO BE CONCLUDED…**_


	18. Chapter 17: Epilogue

_**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - EPILOGUE**_

**The Ministry of Magic  
London, England  
June 11, 2004 – Friday Afternoon**

I stared at the ticket in my hand and couldn't help but laugh out loud with delight.

_**Festival of Sins The Den & Centro  
Special Event: Carnival of Naughty Fun – A Celebration of 'Luxuria - Lust'  
Saturday night - June 12, 2004  
ADMIT ONE**_

I hastily penned a reply to my fiancé, confirming my acceptance of his invitation and sent it off with one of the Ministry owls to Malfoy Manor. I then sent a second note off to Gin, inviting her and her spanking, new husband to pick up some tickets for themselves and come along for the fun, if they wanted. I had a sneaking suspicion that Blaise already knew about the rendezvous, though. Call it feminine intuition, but I was betting he'd already spoiled his wife with a clothing and shoe spending spree to help her pick out a chic, naughty outfit to wear to the event. I'd kill her if she'd gotten the pick of the season's newest BCBG Maxazria dresses and Lise Charmel lingerie first!

With visions of low-cut, silk necklines and lacy knickers to tempt my man with, I returned to my office with a smile plastered to my face, looking forward to tomorrow's shopping trip.

A little over a year ago, if anyone would have told me that I'd one day be the recipient of Draco Malfoy's sexual and romantic interest, and that I'd actually crave him back, I'd have laughed myself silly. Now, I thought the idea was absolutely brilliant!

_**~FIN~**_

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_**AUTHOR'S**__** FINAL NOTES:**_

**Thank you for sticking with this story to the very end dear readers! I hope you enjoyed Hermione & Draco's story of self-discovery and growing up, finding true love! I have no plans for a sequel. I think the story stands well as-is, having run the gamut and come full-circle. I hope you feel similarly.**

**Please review, if you would be so kind! I'd love to hear your thoughts about the story (what you liked/didn't like, how it made you feel, etc.).**


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